


Under The Same Sky

by sleepydanceur



Category: EXO (Band), SHINee
Genre: Dragon Riders, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-15 20:11:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8071066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepydanceur/pseuds/sleepydanceur
Summary: Dragonriders!AU - the Bond between and dragon and their rider is as pure as it is rare. Jongin doesn't know how that feels until he meets Taemin.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Been working on this for a while and I'm finally finished! Had a lot of fun exploring this dragon universe for Taekai, I thought it would fit them really well ;0;
> 
> Major super thank you to Emily for helping me with the whole thing, beta-ing and all the support!! 

“Jongin!”

The strong gust of wind overheard blows dust into his eyes but Jongin catches sight of the dragon descending into the backyard of his clinic. Grunting, he squints at the large form, immediately recognizing the deep crimson underbelly branching into vibrant orange along the wings. His descent into landing has always been a little sloppy, his wings billowing too hard, making him rock from side to side. Rubbing the dust out of his eyes, Jongin waits until they’ve landed, and notices the Chanyeol stumbles a little taking his first steps, favouring his right side. Kyungsoo slides off the saddle, landing nimbly on the ground. He rushes to Jongin.

“A log broke underneath us when Chanyeol landed out by the river,” Kyungsoo explains, cutting straight to the chase. “I think he’s got a splinter jammed in his claw.” 

He looks up at Chanyeol wordlessly, nodding in understanding. “He’s...it hurts.”

Jongin can hear the anxious undertone in Kyungsoo’s voice. They've been bonded as rider and dragon since they were teenagers; they don’t need words when they share each other’s thoughts already. The Bond itself is as pure as it is rare. Most dragon gene holders never find that connection at all. 

Chanyeol wisely stays in his dragon form instead of transforming back, well aware that a dragon’s pain threshold is much higher than their human form. Changing back now would only make the pain excruciating, amplified ten times over from what he’s feeling now.

Dashing into the clinic, Jongin grabs what he needs from his workbench, rifling through the bottles on the shelves to find the antiseptic. He skims over the labels on the glass flasks, working quickly to grind the right herbs together, a tincture of Calendula and Bluedrops from the base of the Eastern mountains.

When Jongin returns, Kyungsoo is holding onto Chanyeol’s head, pressing a gentle hand over the red scales on his nose to soothe him. The maroon ruby-like mirror scales running up between his eyes and over his head glimmer under the harsh sunlight, trailing a path along the ridge of his spine. His long, ridged wings sit limply by his side, trying to stay still without aggravating the pain further. Kyungsoo rests his forehead to Chanyeol’s, not needing to say a thing when Chanyeol can hear all his thoughts already. He shifts a little closer to his midriff and settles a hand over the smooth scarlet scale sitting right over Chanyeol’s heart. It seems to soothe him. More selfish riders would steal the heart scale instead, rip it right out from a dragon’s hide to force them into servitude. Without it, they are under the holder’s complete control, unable to return to their human form until the scale is returned. Kyungsoo and Chanyeol’s Bond is too profound for any of that to ever be a possibility, running entirely on the deep trust and respect between them.

Chanyeol bumps his head into Jongin’s shoulder in acknowledgement when he approaches him, exhaling over his face with humid breath. Jongin pats him and bends down by the leg Kyungsoo shows him, gently setting a hand on Chanyeol’s knee. 

Chanyeol instinctively flinches away from him when he slides his hands down to where it hurts, resisting for a moment when Jongin tries to angle the bottom of his claw around to see the damage. It takes a bit more coaxing, both from his part and Kyungsoo’s, who’s still got a hand under Chanyeol’s chin, before Chanyeol eventually exposes his claw to Jongin. 

He spots the splinter right away, jammed right in between the skin connecting two of his claws together. There are thin trails of blood running down his skin though the splinter itself is plugging the wound, for the most part. He’ll need to stop the bleeding quickly once he pulls it out. 

Jongin moves quickly, wanting to ease Chanyeol’s pain and get this part over with as quickly as possible. The splinter is big enough that he needs to use the pliers on it, keeping the antiseptic and the balms he uses for dragons’ wounds within reach. He nods, and Kyungsoo tightens his grip on Chanyeol’s head firmly, keeping him as steady and still as possible. 

The worst part of this is always hearing a dragon’s screech of pain. Jongin bites his lip through it, yanking the whole splinter out quickly as Chanyeol thrashes wildly. Kyungsoo flinches, his face twisting, no doubt hearing and feeling Chanyeol’s pain through the Bond too.

The splinter is nearly the size of a man's palm. Jongin throws the bloody wood aside, holding Chanyeol’s foot down to quickly clean the wound. He slathers it with the balm and binds it tightly. It’ll need some time to heal before Chanyeol can change back; the level of pain right now is still too much for a human to handle.

Chanyeol slumps down tiredly, lying on his side to relieve his injured foot from the weight. He butts his nose into Jongin’s chest gratefully and turns back to lean his head, too big for the space, on Kyungsoo’s shoulder. His entire body relaxes when Kyungsoo pats him, keeping a hand on the bridge of Chanyeol’s nose. 

“Stay as long as you need till Chanyeol feels up to flying again,” Jongin tells Kyungsoo, wiping his hands off on a clean rag. 

“Jongin. Thank you,” Kyungsoo tells him sincerely, reaching out to grasp his forearm. Jongin cups his elbow in turn, squeezing with a smile before heading back into the clinic, leaving Kyungsoo alone with Chanyeol. There are more patients waiting for him across town, having sent a message ahead this morning, requesting a home visit. 

He takes a moment to wash up, splashing some water on his face and changing out of his bloodstained shirt. His shoulder aches when he raises his arms over his head, the skin stretching uncomfortably. It’s rare that his scar acts up like this, occasionally causing him discomfort even though it’s been fully healed for years now. 

Jongin twists around to look at his back in the mirror, wrapping an arm across his abdomen to reach back at the raised skin stretching along the length of his back and up over his shoulder. A dragon acting in a fit of panic is always dangerous, though not to blame. He’s got more nicks and gashes scattered across his body to account for all the years he’s spent treating injured or sick dragons when they desperately needed it. All worth it in the end.

Jongin picks up a clean shirt and pulls it on, grabbing his medical kit on the way out of the clinic to start off his usual day of visits. 

 

~

 

It’s a long trek back home after another visit across town, all the way out by the cliffs this time. Jeonghan had come to find him earlier, too frantic and panicked to speak coherently at first. Seungcheol’s wing cramped and twisted in the air while they were training. The dragon races are coming up soon, and Jongin has seen countless dragons and their riders practicing overhead, diving by the hills and twisting through the practice obstacle course by the cliffs. 

Seungcheol had been lucky enough to avoid actually getting a concussion when he crashed but Jongin still bans him from competitive flying for at least a week. Hiking the medkit up higher on his shoulder, Jongin grunts as he climbs up the steep hill, wondering why he hadn’t thought to bring his horse out from the stables to save him the effort of the trip. 

It’s a sunny day out, the heat burning right through his clothes, making the fabric stick to his skin uncomfortably with the sweat. It’s a long way home, longer still if he takes the path through the woods instead of over the hills. It only takes a moment for him to decide, opting for the shade rather than roasting out in the open. Maybe he’ll find a stream along the way; his water canteen is almost empty. 

He feels it before he even hears it, the sudden wave of heat washing over him right as the loud roar echoes through the trees. Jongin has worked with dragons long enough to recognize the sound of one that’s in pain. 

Jongin freezes on the spot, waiting to hear it again to see where it’s coming from. Straight ahead. He tears forward, leaping over fallen branches and rocks along the way. A flash of orange comes into sight and the heat burns hotter the closer he gets. He breaks past the last line of trees, coming into a clearing where he has to shield his eyes with his forearm against the glare of the fire. The dragon is struggling with something, clawing at the tree trunks around it but something is anchoring it down. Jongin spots the glint of metal, recognizing a poacher’s heavy trap clamped tightly around one of the dragon’s wings. 

The dragon staggers when it tries to break free again, howling in pain when the sharp steel teeth dig in a little deeper into its flesh. It lets out one burst of fire after another, as though trying to melt the metal loose, but Jongin has seen enough of these illegal traps all over their lands to know that it’s not that easy. The law can’t help them. He’s been to his fair share of street protests against dragon slavery, fighting for stricter laws to protect them. It angers him to his core to see that still none of his efforts are working, that dragons continue to be hunted like prey to fulfill some poacher’s trophy satisfaction. They’re meant to be free beings. Bond or not, dragons are free to choose a rider through a mutual agreement, or simply none at all. Jongin clenches his fist, thinking of the number of dragons who trapped in slavery and the many others who have becomes a display on someone’s mantelpiece. 

Not this time. 

“Hey!” Jongin calls out, trying to get the dragon’s attention and calm it down before the trap rips its wing to shreds. He drops the medkit and waves his arms over his head, wincing at the next scorching blaze that rolls by.

Jongin warily steps closer, trying to get into its line of vision but the dragon throws its head up and roars again, the trap finally starting to rip right through its skin. Throwing caution to the wind, Jongin rushes forward, scooping a broken branch up from the ground where the dragon had broken it off in its struggle. The trap is too hot from the fire for him to touch with his hands, so he’ll have to pry it open with the branch and hope that it’s sturdy enough to hold. 

The moment he pushes the tip of the branch the the gap of the steel teeth, the dragon’s head whips down in panic, feeling the added pressure to the wound. It doesn’t seem to realize what Jongin’s trying to do, clearly panicking as it lets out another line of flames. Jongin doesn’t move out of the way in time to avoid it and the fire catches him right in the arm where he’s holding the branch steady. He cries out, falling backwards as the white hot pain sears right through him, reverberating in his arm. The involuntary tears of pain blur his vision, and Jongin swallows back his scream when he clutches his arm close, his burnt skin singing agonizingly. He struggles to breathe through it, his lungs screaming for air when he takes too long to inhale, every single minute movement shooting another spasm of anguish.

It takes a monumental effort to force himself back up, stumbling unsteadily at next the sharp twinge of pain burning right through him. The dragon is baring its teeth, eyeing him fiercely but holds back, just barely, with uncertainty.

“Let me help you,” Jongin gasps, finally getting his throat to work. The effort to tamp down the pain wracking through his veins is taking a lot out of him but he picks the branch back up where he’d dropped it and hooks it between the teeth again. His left arm is useless now but he manages well enough with one arm, balancing himself on one end of the trap’s base with his foot. 

“On three,” he grunts, looking up at the dragon. It seems to understand what he’s going for, still wary but desperate to get out of this nonetheless.

Jongin throws his whole weight down on the branch on his count, levering the trap open a fraction, just enough for the dragon to pull its wing out right before the trap snaps shut again, too strong for Jongin to hold open for long. 

The energy drains out of his body and Jongin collapses down on the grass, exhausted and half delirious from the pain that’s only intensifying. He falls on his back, unable to hold himself up anymore, dizzy with the lack of air. He can’t even find the energy to look at the damage on his arm, his vision going blurry. The dragon’s roars have finally stopped and everything else starts fading into the background, growing more faint until all Jongin hears is silence. All he can feel is the echoes of the fire searing into his arm over and over until his eyes slip shut and the blackness takes over. 

 

He comes to again like he’s been slapped awake, his eyes slamming open at the knife of pain shooting up his arm, startling him upright. Disoriented, it takes him a moment to register that there’s a man sitting next to him on the grass, wrapping a strip of gauze around his arm. Jongin just catches the angry red mark marring his skin before the man covers the last sliver of it up with the gauze, tucking the corner under the fold. 

“Took the liberty of using your stuff,” the man says when Jongin catches sight of his own medkit lying open with his tubs of potions and balms sitting on the grass. “I know a thing or two about patching up burns.”

“I’m Taemin,” he adds, wiping his hands off the grass. Jongin’s skin is thankfully starting to cool down, tingly as it starts going numb. Taemin must have used the salve Jongin usually saves for the more severe dragon wounds he tends to. 

“Jongin,” he offers in turn. He notices the strip of gauze wrapped around Taemin’s shoulder, peeking out from under his own loose shirt. He’s already patched himself up while Jongin was out. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, wincing when he absent mindedly uses his wounded arm to push himself forward. “Let me take a look at that.”

Taemin laughs in surprise, insisting that he’s fine but Jongin is already on the wrappings, wound around his shoulder sloppily. 

“It didn’t pierce too deep,” Taemin says when Jongin unwinds the bandages to get a good look at the wound that’s left underneath. The skin there is badly bruised, sporting a nasty looking gash in the middle of it but Taemin has already gotten the bleeding to stop. “Thanks to you.” 

Jongin grabs one of the jars sitting on the grass, struggling to get the cap off. He nods gratefully when Taemin takes it from him to pop it open himself, holding it up for Jongin to dip his fingers into and press the mix of herbs onto the wound. Taemin hisses, despite his previous insistence that he was fine. Jongin spreads the mix evenly and wraps the bandages around again neatly, feeling his own arm throbbing with every movement. 

“Thank you,” Taemin says again, more quietly. His brows furrow, gnawing on his lower lip and his eyes drop to Jongin’s arm. Jongin can already tell what’s coming, cutting him off before he gets around to saying it. 

“I know the risks. It comes with the job,” Jongin says pointedly, watching Taemin snap his eyes back up. “It was my choice.” 

“I thought you were a poacher,” Taemin says. “Or one of those—” He cuts himself short, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry.”

His tone is firm, taking responsibility despite Jongin’s dismissal and Jongin respects it, nodding his head. The pain in his arm is already starting to flare up again, the balm Taemin used on him isn’t as effective on humans as it is with dragons. It stings sharply, hurting a lot more than Jongin’s letting on in front of Taemin, though it’s probably pointless to hide it when Taemin has already acknowledged the severity of it. After all, it _is_ a dragon burn. Dragon fire scars forever; it will never heal completely. He’s been a dragon healer for a long time, having dealt with tons of situations, but this is the first time he’s ever been on the receiving end of their flames. 

But it’s like he told Taemin earlier. This was his choice and his alone; his risk to take. 

“Were you heading back to town?” Taemin cuts into his thoughts, leaning over to pack the jars back into Jongin’s medkit. 

Jongin nods, suddenly wondering how long he was out for when he notices the shadows starting to get longer behind the trees. He half considers lying back down on the grass a while longer, feeling completely drained, but it looks like it’s going to be dark out soon. Sleeping in the middle of the woods at night is never a good idea, no matter how tempting it is.

Taemin gets to his feet, straightening up and holds a hand out to Jongin with a knowing grin, as though reading his mind. Chuckling, Jongin uses his good arm to take Taemin’s hand, letting him pull him up. The touch of their palms sends a sudden jolt ricocheting through Jongin’s entire body, like a shockwave shooting right through him. He looks up to find Taemin looking just as shaken, a flicker of confusion darting through his eyes before he lets go of Jongin’s hand. 

Jongin only realizes he’s staring when the spell is broken by the loud chirp of a bird somewhere nearby. 

“I should, uh,” he scrambles to gather up the medkit, careful to keep his bad arm out of the way. “I should get going.”

“Right. Yeah,” Taemin nods, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess I’ll see you around then.”

“Stay out of trouble,” Jongin tells him, managing a laugh at the sceptical look Taemin throws him, considering the state of his own arm. He turns, waving over his shoulder and heads in the opposite direction. Jongin waves back even after he’s disappeared out of sight, wondering about the odd tingling in his fingertips, humming under his skin all over his body. 

 

It’s been a long week of nonstop visits these past few days, running from one side of town to the other for check ups and urgent visits, especially with the races looming ever closer. Jongin’s supplies have been running low for a while now, and he keeps putting off the gathering trip he desperately needs to replenish his supplies. The last jar of Chickweed ran out a few days ago too though, so there’s really no other option but to just get on with the herb gathering. 

He pulls his coat off the hanger, anticipating the stronger winds the closer he gets up by the cliffs over the sea. It’s a bit of a struggle to pull the sleeve over his arm with the protective gauze he’s got wrapped around the healing burn. Grunting, he manages to shrug it on and grabs his bag before heading out, pocketing the list of everything he’s run out of. It’s a pretty long list and he groans at the thought, knowing they’ll be scattered all over the place, in areas that are hard to get to. It’s not the best weather to be out gathering on the cliffside but there’s a storm coming soon and he needs to get this over with before the rain washes everything away.

His boots sink in the soil as he makes his way up the grassy cliffside, stopping every now and then by a particular bush or a set of flower buds that have what he’s looking for. Jongin pulls out the list, skimming through it to check what else he needs. He's still missing one of the key herbs, Nightshade, which he uses in most of his mixtures for infections. It’s out of season right now, but usually he’s still able to find some hidden around here and there.

Straightening up, he scans the grassy plain and peers around the bushes he’s already looked through, hoping he’d missed something the first time around. He’s gotten a lot closer to the cliff’s edge by this point but he still hasn’t found the herb. 

Just as he’s about to give up to look elsewhere, a clump of red leaves up ahead catches his eye and he finally spots the Nightshade, swaying freely in the breeze. It must be the last patch left out here. Jongin lowers his bag and treads over to it slowly, cautious of how close he’s getting to the edge of the cliff. Fortunately, the clump is a few feet inwards from the edge and Jongin takes one more step to get to it, lowering himself onto his haunches to pull the herbs out by the roots. 

“Gotcha.” He grins at the clump in his hands just as the earth beneath his boots shifts and lurches, suddenly giving way underneath his weight. 

Jongin yells, pushing himself forward but he’s already falling. He just barely catches hold of a thick root jutting out from the edge of the broken off cliff side, while the chunk of earth he was standing on plummets and smashes on the sharp rocks below, washing away in the sea. 

He gasps out a curse, dangling precariously from one arm. The root isn’t going to hold forever. Jongin does his best not to look down, struggling to bring his other arm up to anchor himself better to the root, wincing at the pain of the old burn when his skin stretches sharply. 

It’s hard not to panic; there isn’t anyone else around for miles. He can feel the urge to yell bubbling in his chest but decides against it, focusing his energy on holding onto the root. His legs dangle uselessly in the air, unable to find a grip on the cliff edge when more of it keeps crumbling.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jongin wheezes when the root starts to give way too with the pressure of his weight. He tries to haul himself up, scrabbling at the loose earth at the edge but it only makes things worse, yanking the root out even further from where it’s buried. His chest is starting to tighten with panic, making it even harder to breathe. 

He feels a ripple pass through him before he hears it, punching through his chest like something invisible is slamming into him. Then the sound of giant wings moving through the air comes up behind him; dragon. 

Jongin barely manages a glance over his shoulder, but he still recognizes the flash of orange spikes like flames across smooth emerald scales: Taemin. Before he can react, he feels a hard set of claws curl around his middle, tightening around him just enough to keep him in place and yank him away from the root just as another chunk of the earth at the edge crumbles and breaks off. Jongin is too winded to yell, squeezing his eyes shut instead and tries to focus on not throwing up when his stomach lurches. 

He’s in the air for all of two minutes before he feels the grassy ground under his boots when Taemin drops him gently on a safer part of land. Jongin wheezes, grappling at the grass to steady himself from the dizziness, infinitely grateful for having solid land under his feet again. Taemin changes back in the meantime, pulling on his rolled up clothes before laying a hand on Jongin’s heaving back. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jongin gasps with feeling. “Thanks.”

Taemin just laughs, settling down next to him, waiting for him to catch his breath and calm down. 

“How did you even know I was there?” Jongin asks, finally sitting up and dusting his hands off. He’s surprised to see the sudden frown that pulls Taemin’s brows together, looking conflicted. 

“I heard you,” he murmurs, his frown deepening a fraction. 

Jongin quirks an eyebrow, certain he hadn’t seen anyone anywhere nearby while he was gathering the herbs. He says as much but Taemin shakes his head, cutting him off. 

“Not literally,” he says. “In my head. I could feel it when you got in trouble.”

“So much for staying out of it, huh,” he adds, flicking Jongin on the forehead like he’s berating him even though the trouble last time was _him_. Jongin swats him away petulantly, a little embarrassed at having been caught in a situation like this, though he was inches away from plummeting to his death only moments ago.

The light mood dies out when the thick silence settles between them, both starting to process what Taemin’s implying. It hits Jongin hard now what he really means—hearing him in his head, sensing that he’s in trouble. The Bond. 

“So. You heard me,” Jongin murmurs, looking down as he plays with the messed up gauze around his arm. The burn is finally starting to scab now but he’s trying not to pick at it. 

“Yeah.” 

Something about Taemin’s expression reminds him of the day he found him caught in the trap. He was in his dragon form then, but the same hesitance and uncertainty his body language showed when he saw Jongin there almost seems like this moment now. Taemin’s expression is drawn, almost unreadable, but Jongin can still see him looking caught between troubled and almost frustrated. 

“When we met,” Jongin asks curiously, unable to stop himself. “You said you thought I was a poacher or someone else. Who else did you think I was?” 

Taemin looks up, surprised at the question and Jongin feels like he’s managed to tap into what’s on Taemin’s mind, even without the bond’s connection in Taemin’s dragon form. Taemin sighs through his nose, looking perplexed. 

“I just—I thought you were gonna—” he cuts himself off, shaking his head. He pauses, choosing his words, and Jongin waits.

“I’m not some trophy service pony,” Taemin says finally, turning to look him straight in the eye. Something about his tone, coupled with the dark look in his eyes makes Jongin wonder what Taemin isn’t telling him but he doesn’t push. It’s a valid standalone reason anyhow. 

“But you came anyway,” Jongin muses. Bonded or not, they’re still in full control of their own free will, choosing to act or not however they please. The Bond between a dragon and its rider is just an extension of their potential relationship, not a chain. 

“I did,” Taemin hums, nodding pensively. “Looks like I’m bound to you.” 

He turns to face Jongin, propping his elbows on his knees and sets his chin on his fist, a calculative expression on his face.

“Well, it’s been twenty minutes and you haven’t tried to kill me this time around,” Jongin says lightly, though the joke still rings with truth.

That draws a laugh out of Taemin, grinning sheepishly. 

“And it’s ‘with’, not ‘to’,” Jongin adds seriously after a moment’s thought. He needs to get this part straight. 

“What?” Taemin looks confused.

“You’re bonded with me, not to me,” Jongin says quietly, holding Taemin’s eyes even as his neck burns. It’s just a word but it means everything. “It’s a two way street. You’re not my prisoner. I don’t own you.”

Taemin stares at him thoughtfully, mulling over his words. Jongin has imagined different variations in his head of what it would be like if he ever Bonded with a dragon, though he never pictured it happening quite like this, much less know how to feel about it. 

He yelps at the sudden jab in his bad arm and Taemin retracts his finger, still staring at the soily bandages. Jongin catches the same look of guilt in his eyes has last time, figuring it may be part of what motivated him to actually come and help more than anything else. 

He barely knows him but Jongin realizes this is not the place for glossing over the issue or throwing out flimsy placations when Taemin’s clearly not having it, preferring to own up to it straight and plain. Jongin feels a small sting of pain from his arm as if on cue. 

“Wanna help me gather the rest of the herbs I need?” he asks instead. “Be my arm for the day.”

Taemin grins, following after Jongin when he gets to his feet. Jongin catches a glimpse of the old wound on his shoulder under his loose shirt, healing nicely now that enough time has passed. 

They head back to the mouth of the forest where Jongin leads them, pointing out what he’s looking for so they can both keep their eyes peeled. 

Taemin has his own carver store in the middle of town, not too far from his clinic, Jongin finds out. 

“I work on commissions, mostly,” Taemin says, showing him the calluses and marks from the wood carving tools on his fingers. “People are a lot more satisfied when they know what they want.”

“How come I’ve never seen you around?” Jongin muses, having thought he was familiar with a good number of people around town, particularly the regulars and neighbours around his area. He realizes how the question sounds a beat later, hoping the flush rising on the back of his neck isn’t too obvious. It’s hard not to notice how attractive Taemin is, with the way his hair falls into his eyes and his plush lips, somehow always curved into a smile. Jongin busies himself with a rose bush instead, pulling out some of the roots. 

“Well, Heidi,” Taemin grins. “Maybe if you spent less time in the hills, falling off cliffs, you might actually—”

Groaning, Jongin cuts him off with a punch in the arm, trying to knock him off balance. Taemin bounces right back, chuckling. 

The sun is already starting to set by the time they get back to town, finally getting off the grass and onto the familiar cobbled path of the streets. Taemin is carrying half the load in his arms, letting Jongin lead him through the side streets towards his clinic. 

“Hey Jongin, are you still down for—oh. Hi.”

Chanyeol turns up around the corner just as they round it, belatedly noticing that Jongin’s not alone.

“Chanyeol, this is Taemin. He’s helping me with gathering,” Jongin introduces them and Taemin nods politely, his hands too busy balancing Jongin’s jars to try for a handshake. 

“So, tomorrow?” Chanyeol starts again. “Kyungsoo’s birthday party. You’re coming right?”

“I’ll be there,” Jongin says. Pleased, Chanyeol goes on his way, waving goodbye at both of them. 

The clinic is only a short way ahead from there, finally stepping inside to relieve their hands from their load. Jongin starts sorting them out, cleaning the glass with a rag before stacking them in his cabinet carefully. He can feel Taemin’s eyes on him, turning to find him looking at him curiously.

“What?”

“Earlier. You didn’t mention anything about me or, you know. Us.”

Jongin pauses. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be comfortable with it. We still haven’t talked through doing anything about it.” 

Taemin doesn’t take his eyes off him, studying his face. He comes closer, sorting out the rest of the jars beside him. 

“Well how _do_ you feel about it?” he asks quietly, polishing a spot on the glass jar with the rag.

Jongin swallows, hesitating. Now that he’s got a moment to really stop and think about it, all he can feel is this strange fullness in his chest, something akin to elation. 

“Honestly,” he says, quietly. “It doesn’t feel bad at all. You?”

Taemin doesn’t break the stare, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Yeah.”

Jongin feels something shift behind his ribs, warm, settling, a comfortable thrum in the pit of his stomach that steadies him for the rest of the day.

 

~

 

It happens out of the blue, while Jongin is working on grinding the herbs together to make more balm to restock his stash in the clinic.

There’s no one in there but him, having dealt with a batch of patients in the morning after a couple of home visits. He'd strategically chosen this spot for his clinic, knowing it'd be peaceful back here in the countryside when he wasn't treating patients.

“Fucking mosquitos.”

Jongin whips around in shock, accidentally knocking the clay bowl to the ground with the sharp movement. There’s no one behind him but he _definitely_ heard a voice just now, right there beside him, like it was right in his ear. He scans the entire clinic warily, wondering how many steps it would take to grab the knife from his cabinet. He stands still, rooted to the spot as he tries to listen for any indication that there’s someone else there with him but there’s nothing, not even a whisper of a sound other than his own breathing. 

_You’re losing it, Jongin,_ he thinks to himself, sighing as he drops down on his haunches to gather up the broken shards of the bowl scattered across the floor. 

“Jongin?”

He drops the pieces in his hand, stumbling backwards and falling on his butt heavily, staring around fearfully at the voice again.

“Well shit, I forgot about this bit.”

Jongin finally recognizes the voice, almost laughing when he slumps in relief and drops his head into his hands, feeling his heart thundering painfully in his chest. 

“ _Taemin._ ”

Of course. The Bond between a dragon and their rider extends into a further connection between their minds, more than just being able to feel what the other feels. They’re able to be in each other’s heads, listening in on their actual thoughts like they’re right next to one another. Jongin must be hearing Taemin’s thoughts finally filtering clearly into his own consciousness because Taemin’s in his dragon form, flying over the sea. If he focuses hard enough, he can even feel the faint sensation of the cold water splashing on Taemin’s hide like Jongin’s there himself. 

More than that, he can feel Taemin’s euphoria as he flies, soaring over the clouds and dipping down to touch the sea with the tips of his claws, relishing the freedom and the speed of his flight. Jongin can feel it all like his entire soul and being is connected to Taemin’s in that moment. 

“Hey. You busy?”

Jongin stares down at the broken shards on the ground in response and Taemin snorts in his head, hearing his thoughts. That’s going to take some getting used to but it’s not entirely uncomfortable.

“Come and meet me.”

Jongin can sense his whereabouts without having to ask, seeing flashes in his mind through Taemin’s own eyes. Pushing the clay pieces aside, he makes a note to clean it up later and locks up the clinic, heading over to the cliffside. 

He’s surprised to find Taemin still in his dragon form when he gets there, having thought he might change back once Jongin arrived. Jongin approaches slowly, taking Taemin’s silence in his head as assent for him to come closer. 

He hadn’t actually gotten the chance to get a good look at Taemin the first time around, too focused on his injury instead at the time. The colours are what catch his eye first, the ripple of his emerald green scales when his muscles move gleaming under the sun, melting into the flaming orange running down his entire front. 

Taemin spreads his wings, displaying them for him at Jongin’s interest, unabashed as he marvels over the violet webbing skin between the bone, fading out into a dark crimson bordering at the tips. His tail swings forward, as orange as his chest, bearing the same spikes protruding from the tip as the ones ridging over the crown of his head, spanning down over the back of his neck. 

He’s a rare type, Jongin notes, unable to recall the last time he’d ever seen a dragon like this. He says nothing, letting Taemin feel his awe instead. Then Taemin changes back, stark naked in his human form, and Jongin looks away politely while he puts on the clothes he’d brought along with him in a small, rolled up bag. 

“You know, I’ve thought about it,” Taemin comments, joining him cross legged on the grass. Jongin raises his eyebrows in askance. “Flying. I’ve read about it, that flying with a Bonded rider feels different, heightened. I’ve heard people talk about it in the tavern sometimes, that it feels better, like it magnifies the whole experience.”

Jongin turns to him in surprise, studying his expression and the look in his eyes. “Are you saying you want me to ride you?”

“Woah, buy me dinner first,” Taemin throws back, bringing his palms up. His face breaks into a wide grin and Jongin reaches down to pinch his thigh.

“Are you sure that’s what you actually want?” Jongin asks again quietly, staring down at his hands and picks at the callouses on his fingers from all the hours spent churning herbs. So much about this entire situation is delicate, a tricky game between consent and something ugly that Jongin hopes he’s never cross into. Forcing someone to submit to him is the last thing he would ever want for anyone, especially Taemin. This isn’t the direction he’d wanted the beginning of their friendship to head into, where it feels like Taemin is shackled to him. 

“I don’t know,” Taemin answers honestly. Jongin’s heart plummets. “Maybe. Call it a gut feeling. I just want to try.”

Looking away from his fingers, Jongin bites his lip uncertainly. He half wishes Taemin were still in his dragon form so he could feel exactly what’s really going through his mind, but that just brings them around to the same problem at hand. He focuses on Taemin’s face instead, the way he looks in this moment, his eyes calm, still with that hint of his ever present smile on his lips.

“If we weren’t bonded, would you still want me to?” He tries quietly, focusing on his reaction for an answer. 

Taemin looks thoughtful, idly playing with a blade of grass between his fingers.

“Only if you asked me nicely,” he grins in reply, throwing the shredded grass in Jongin’s face. “Would you assume that I would say yes?” 

“No,” Jongin answers without hesitation. 

Taemin smiles, not the playful one he’s been donning so far. It’s genuine, pleased, tranquil.

“Then that’s why I want you to.”

 

~

 

Before anything else, they need to get a tailored saddle fitted on Taemin’s back first, for Jongin to sit on and hold onto while they’re in the air. Jongin thinks of Seulgi, his childhood best friend since before they could even walk, wondering if she’d be able to whip up a dragon saddle as well as she does with horse saddles for her own steeds in her stable. He mentions it to Taemin, wondering if she’s in right now. 

“It’s, okay, I’ve got a friend who can hook us up with someone. He’s a dragon too,” Taemin says cheerfully, leading him into one of the taverns close to where Taemin’s store is. Jongin comes down here for a drink every now and then, enjoying the cosy ambiance and the warmth that the huge fireplace gives off when the winters turn bitterly cold. 

Taemin looks around in search of his friend, grabbing onto Jongin’s elbow to guide him forward when he finally finds him, sitting at a table by the window. He’s leaning back against his seat, his broad shoulders shifting as he raises his drink. His silver white hair almost glistens in the sunlight filtering in through the window.

“Jongin, this is Jonghyun,” Taemin introduces them after Jonghyun grasps his arm warmly, sliding a comfortable arm around to squeeze his waist. They seem close; Jongin senses that they go way back. 

Jongin shakes his hand, offering him a smile which Jonghyun returns easily, inviting them both to sit at the table with him.

“So, what brings you here at this hour?” Jonghyun slings an arm around Taemin’s neck, yanking him close while he finishes off the last of his drink. 

“I’m looking for Minho. We need a saddle.”

Jonghyun’s forehead creases slightly at that, looking surprised at his request. His arms slips off Taemin’s shoulders, but he doesn’t say anything. He does throw a dark look Jongin’s way though, and Jongin blinks, a little taken aback. Taemin doesn’t seem to notice though, and Jonghyun works a smile back onto his face, sending him off to get another round of drinks for their table. Shrugging, Taemin slides out of his seat, nodding at Jongin that he’ll be right back before turning away, heading over to the bartender. 

“How much do you want?”

Startled, Jongin snaps his head back to catch the steely look in Jonghyun’s eye where he’s glaring at him across the table. 

‘What?” he asks, confused. 

“Whatever you’re blackmailing him with; how much do you want to let it go? I’ll double it.” He looks completely serious, fixing Jongin with an icy look. 

Jongin splutters in shock. “Hang on, that’s not what—”

“Listen,” Jonghyun cuts him off, sighing as he leans forward with his elbows up on the table, his fist pressed into his other palm. “I’ve known Taemin for a long time. He can take care of himself but I also know he would never do this willingly. So; how much are you holding over him?”

Floored, Jongin takes a deep breath, trying to stay calm. His words send a pang shooting through his chest, echoing his own thoughts plaguing since they found out about the Bond.

“Look, I’m a dragon healer. I’m not interested in your money. He asked me to do this.”

“Why would he ask you?” Jonghyun frowns.

“I’m still not sure,” Jongin fires back. “Just because we’re Bonded doesn't mean I’m forcing him into—”

“Wait, you _Bonded_?” Jonghyun blurts out incredulously, his elbows slipping off the edge of the table. 

Taemin picks that moment to come back, balancing three pints of cider in his hands.

“What’s going on?”

“You _bonded_?” Jonghyun turns to throw the question at him instead, eyes wide. Taemin puts the cider down on the table carefully, letting out his breath in a long exhale. He glares at Jongin who raises his palms defensively. 

“He thought I was blackmailing you.”

“Hyung,” Taemin groans, rolling his eyes and Jonghyun’s icy look melts away, looking sheepish and slightly guilty now even though he’s clearly still not onboard with the idea. His expression is still twisted between confused and frustrated, likely on Taemin’s behalf from what Jongin’s been able to gather from this, which he supposes he can appreciate even if it’s at his own expense. All things considered, Jonghyun _does_ seem the type to be overly protective over something like this. In a way, Jongin’s grateful for it. 

Taemin pushes the cider into Jonghyun’s hands, taking a huge mouthful from his own and smacking his lips. Jonghyun just stares at him expectantly and Taemin sighs, pushing the cider away and starts talking, explaining the whole thing from the beginning when they met up until now. 

“It just happened,” he says quietly, thumbing at a chipped hole on the wooden table surface. “It turned out the way it did and I’m fine with it. Seriously.”

He gives Jonghyun a meaningful look, urging him to believe him and Jonghyun sighs, finally taking a long sip from his drink. He looks incredibly mortified when he finally resurfaces from behind the rim of his tankard, suddenly unable to meet Jongin’s eye after all his accusations at the misunderstanding. He deflates against the chair, looking up to study Taemin’s face, giving him a calculating look. Jongin sits still and holds his breath until Jonghyun seems satisfied, for now at least. 

“Well, if you’re sure—”

“I am,” Taemin cuts in firmly.

“He’s over by the mill today, next to Junmyeon’s place,” Jonghyun says finally, giving in. 

Taemin grins widely, clapping him on the back before taking another swig of cider, and coaxes him to join him. Jonghyun sighs before indulging him, and Jongin can still see the concern in his eyes over the rim of his tankard. 

Jongin excuses himself for a moment, claiming that his drink’s gone right through him but he leaves to give Taemin a moment alone with Jonghyun without him there. He heads out of the tavern through the back door, breathing in the fresh air and exhaling slowly. He wonders how much more upheaval he'll bring into Taemin’s life. 

~

 

Minho gets the saddle done in less than a week, delivering it to Taemin’s store himself. Taemin shifts into his dragon form when they get to a more secluded area by the cliffs, jerking his head to beckon Jongin over into throwing it on him. He fidgets the entire time, flapping his wings in Jongin’s face every time he tries to get the buckles to lock up, wiggling his back until Jongin nearly slips off and loses his grip on the saddle completely. It’s next to impossible to fix the saddle on him properly. 

“Would you stop?” Jongin grits out, smacking his hide though his human hand has no effect on him whatsoever. Taemin makes low wheezing sounds, turning his neck to watch Jongin struggle and Jongin can hear his laughter echoing in his head too, the asshole. The amusement is seeping through their connection in waves. 

He finally manages to fix the saddle firmly on his back, strapping it tightly to make sure it doesn’t slip. Jongin wipes his brow, deliberately trodding on Taemin’s talon when he circles around him to check the other side. The effect is instantaneous; Taemin throws his head up high in the air, extending his neck to its full length and his tail goes rigid, howls of pain reverberating in Jongin’s head. Jongin freezes, watching in alarm as Taemin stumbles unsteadily a few steps before keeling over on his side, crashing down on the ground heavily and going limp. 

“Fuck,” Jongin breathes, mortified. He’s not even that heavy, especially for a dragon ten times his size; did he trigger some sort of old injury there that Jongin had missed? He rushes over to his side, pressing a hand to Taemin’s hide where his heart is. It’s still beating normally but Taemin’s completely unresponsive to his name being called. His eyes are closed, face pressed half into the ground and Jongin falls to his knees by his head, gently touching one of his eyelids to pull it open. Except Taemin’s eyes snap open that same second and he whips upright, faster than Jongin can even follow. Jongin falls back on his butt at the force of his speed, finding himself trapped on his back under Taemin’s towering figure seconds later, his claws on either side of him. 

“I can’t believe you fell for that,” he sniggers, the ripples of his laughter bursting in full force through their bond. Jongin groans, both in embarrassment and frustration; he should have known; he’s a freaking _dragon healer_ , and this is Taemin he’s dealing with. 

“You asshole,” he grumbles, smacking Taemin’s face away when he exhales through his nostrils right on Jongin’s face. He scrambles to his feet, rushing to wipe the gross dampness on his face away with Taemin’s discarded clothes. Small victories. 

Taemin’s a relentless pain in the ass when Jongin finally scrambles onto the saddle too, yelping and grabbing onto the saddle hold when Taemin deliberately starts bucking to mess with him. The rocking makes him queasy and Taemin only stops when Jongin threatens to throw up all over him. 

“Sorry,” he says, not sounding the least bit apologetic, the sentiment still laced with amusement. “You ready?”

Jongin nods affirmatively and Taemin takes that as his cue to push off the ground in one smooth movement, extending his wings out to catch the air and propel them up higher. Jongin feels the rush of the take off, his stomach swooping sharply and he holds on to the saddle more tightly, slightly terrified of falling off despite being firmly strapped in.

Taemin angles his body sharply, lifting his wings up higher and suddenly the world spins, turning on its head and then they’re flying upside down. Jongin can barely hear Taemin laughing in his head through his own yelling, wanting to sock him in the shoulder but not wanting to take his hands off the steel grip he’s got on the saddle. Jongin squints through the sharp wind nipping at his face, bringing tears to his eyes. He’ll need to remember to bring goggles with him next time. 

Taemin goes through one more loop before finally calming down, turning the right way up and extending his wings to fly smoothly, almost like they’re just floating in the air. Scrubbing his sleeve across his eyes, Jongin blinks away the dampness and gapes at the breathtaking view all around them from up here. 

“Pretty neat, huh?” Taemin says, swooping and flying right through a cloud, making Jongin laugh breathlessly. 

He’s never seen anything more amazing, watching the way the sun shines through the clumps of clouds up here, in hues of red and orange. The sea seems so far away, shimmering under the sun down below them. Being up here feels incredible, and he can feel Taemin’s elation too, blooming in his chest like a burst of warmth. He can feel Taemin’s calmness seeping through the Bond to him, soothing the spike of fear and adrenaline from earlier. 

Jongin stares down at his knuckles where they’ve gone white around the saddle and doesn’t hesitate now, trusting Taemin enough to let go and straighten up, holding his arms up outstretched. There’s something so empowering about being up here, suspended by nothing but the air that carries them along, more freeing that he’d ever anticipated. A bubble pops in his chest and Jongin starts laughing helplessly, electrified as the rush washes over him. He can feel Taemin’s smile, buoying him with his own exhilaration. He’s worked with dragons for a long time now, but he could never have imagined how thrilling all of this really is. It’s like his entire mind and body have joined with Taemin’s, soaring over the clouds as a single unit, joint together. Jongin thinks he can feel Taemin’s heartbeat for a moment, unable to tell which beat is even his own. 

Taemin circles back after a while, taking them back down to the grassy slope they’d taken off from. Jongin unbuckles himself from the saddle and slides back down onto the ground, feeling a little wobbly on his feet. He stumbles unsteadily for a few steps before just slumping down on the grass, sitting back and letting his body come down from the high. Taemin changes back to his human body, wriggling out of the saddle and takes his clothes from the bag Jongin brought along for him, pulling them on quickly. He settles down on the grass beside Jongin, lying back to look up at the sky, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand. 

Jongin’s chest is buzzing pleasantly and maybe he’s still feeling echoes of Taemin’s feelings too through the bond, looking over at him in time to catch the way he smiles to himself. 

“So,” Jongin starts slowly, still needing to ask. Once he’s sobered up enough from the wave of adrenaline, it hits him that they just flew together for the first time as a bonded dragon and rider. It’s been a delicate topic thus far, and Jongin needs to clear it up, out loud. “What did you think?”

Ha waits to hear what Taemin has to say, even after feeling everything he’d felt first hand through the Bond. The exhilaration still thrumming in his veins is almost intoxicating. Despite the Bond, Jongin needs to confirm it, for himself and for Taemin’s benefit too. 

Taemin turns to look at him, a smile dancing on his lips again. His eyes are calm, content even, the picture of relaxation where he’s sprawled out over the grass, soaking in the sun. There isn’t even a shadow of the look he’d given Jongin the day they met. 

“I think we should go for another round.”

Grinning, he springs back up to his feet, holding a hand out to Jongin to help him up. Now that he’s upright again, Jongin registers the way his stomach churns queasily, despite having enjoyed every second of the ride. Taemin thumps on his back helpfully.

“It’s fine. If you throw up I’ll drop you in the sea.”

Jongin’s stomach plummets further but Taemin’s already slipping out of his shirt again, turning in a matter of seconds. Sighing, Jongin moves to fit the saddle on his back again, a lot easier this time now that Taemin’s cooperating eagerly. The way it flows through the bond, washing over Jongin; he can’t bring himself to break this moment over a bout of nausea. 

 

~

 

The temperature spikes up sharply as summer starts to set in, growing hot and sweltering enough that Jongin drags Taemin down to the lake to bathe and cool down. They leave their clothes by a large boulder on the bank, stripping out of everything but their underwear. 

Taemin gets distracted by a bug flying right into his face, flapping his hands and swatting it away, and Jongin uses it to his advantage. Coming up behind him quietly, he ghosts a finger up Taemin’s bare back, like an insect creeping on his skin. Taemin yelps, leaping forward and Jongin helps him the rest of the way, shoving him further till he topples over and splashes right into the cold lake water all in one go. 

He resurfaces, spluttering and wiping the water away from his eyes, glaring at Jongin where he’s doubled over with laughter. 

Jongin dips his feet in eventually, joining Taemin in the water till he’s submerged up to his neck. The water feels great against his skin, refreshing even with the force of the sun’s heat still beating down on them. He would lie back on his back and let himself float freely if he weren’t absolutely certain that Taemin would come and dunk his head underwater. Discarding the idea, he opts instead to swim around leisurely, retaliating when Taemin starts splashing at him with his feet. 

They drag themselves out of the water eventually, when their skin starts getting pruney after being in so long. The lake water has cooled him down enough that the sunshine feels pleasant on Jongin’s skin, settling down on the grassy bank to dry out before putting his clothes back on. 

Taemin settles down beside him, spreading himself out and leaning back on his elbows lazily. He goes unusually quiet and Jongin twists around to look at him, realizing where Taemin’s eyes are focused. Now that his clothes are off, Taemin can see the whole array of scars on his skin, particularly the nasty one running from the ball of his shoulder all the way down his back. It doesn’t hurt anymore, but it’s a constant reminder everyday. 

“How’d you get this?” Taemin asks, predictably. He reaches a hand up absently as though to touch it, hesitating just an inch away from his back. Jongin doesn’t move or flinch away, just watches him expectantly over his shoulder. 

The first touch of Taemin’s fingers sends a shiver up his spine, his fingertips still cold from the swim. He traces over the raised skin gently, following the jagged trail down to where it ends just by his waist. 

“Dragon claws,” Jongin says simply, seeing the look of recognition bloom on Taemin’s face. His hand falls away. “His wing was torn; must’ve torn himself out of a poacher trap. I wanted to help but I didn’t know what to do. I just frightened him more and he lashed out at me. I was 16 then.” 

The scar tingles as he talks, like the memory is sitting just under the mark. “That’s probably when I started wanting to be a healer. I never want to be that helpless again.”

Taemin stares at him thoughtfully, pulling his knees up to his chest and leans his cheek down on his knees. His eyes shift, drifting from the end of the scar trailing off his shoulder down to the fresher mark marring Jongin’s arm; the mark _he_ left there. 

“Does it hurt?” he asks, eyeing it quietly. 

It did; for a long while after it happened, it was almost excruciating. But it’s simmered down to a dull ache now, one Jongin can easily push aside when he needs to. 

“No,” he answers honestly. Taemin nods, exhaling heavily through his nose. He reaches out to touch him again and Jongin lets him, watching him run the tip of his finger across the skin softly, tracing invisible patterns. It tickles. 

“Makes me look more badass,” Jongin comments lightly, seeing the apologetic look still smothering the usual spark in Taemin’s eyes every time he sees the mark. 

He’s never once blamed him, but this seems like something Taemin needs to come around to by himself, without being coddled through it. 

“Wouldn’t scare a puppy,” Taemin chuckles, tucking the guilt away behind his usual grin, the smile still reaching his eyes. Jongin beams, catching his finger and squeezing it. Taemin twists his hand around idly to circle his thumb and index around Jongin’s wrist, playful as ever. He looks out across the lake, keeping hold of Jongin’s hand.

“I’m starving,” he murmurs, suddenly bringing Jongin’s hand up to his mouth to gnaw on his finger lightly. “Mutton for dinner?”

Jongin’s mouth waters at the thought, realizing how ravenous he is when his stomach rumbles. 

Taemin grins widely. “Last one back is paying.”

He hops to his feet suddenly, yanking the rest of his clothes on and immediately tears back up the hill they came down from. Jongin yells, taken by surprise, and scrambles to his feet to chase after him, hearing Taemin’s laughter echoing ahead of him.

 

~

 

Jonghyun warms up to Jongin gradually, the more they join him for drinks at the tavern. The initial misunderstanding gets swept aside further once Jonghyun’s easygoing character starts to shine through. 

Taemin’s told him all about how Jonghyun practically raised him since he was a kid, showing him the ropes to being a dragon, like the older brother Taemin never had. Jonghyun joins them when they head out for a flight every now and then. It’s easy to see why he’s so fiercely protective of him; Jongin is a little disappointed at having made such a terrible first impression on someone who matters so much to Taemin.

Taemin treats them both to lunch on him one day, in the middle of the week after a satisfied customer’s hefty payment at his store. He slips out of his seat to go get the first round of drinks. 

"Play nice, kids," he throws over his shoulder, leaving them alone at the table. Jongin swallows dryly, his mind racing with a million thoughts all at once. They’ve hung out with Jonghyun plenty of times before, but this is actually the first time he’s really been completely alone with him, without Taemin by his side. He spares a terrible second to the fleeting thought that maybe it might all have been for Taemin’s benefit, that the steely look in Jonghyun eye might come back now that Taemin’s not there. Jongin shakes the thought away, knowing just enough about Jonghyun to firmly dismiss the idea. 

"I'm sorry."

Jongin blinks in surprise, looking up to find Jonghyun staring at him from across the table, his hands clamped together on the wooden surface. 

"Uh," Jongin blurts out intelligently. Jonghyun smiles a little, leaning forward. 

"I'm sorry," he says again, "for giving you a hard time when we met. I know I get too protective over Taemin even though he can stand up for himself just fine without me.” 

Jongin listens quietly, waiting for him to go on.

"He's a tough kid," Jonghyun chuckles and Jongin manages a laugh too, having found that out for himself. "He's family to me. It's not my place to speak for him, never was, but I'll always feel like I need to step in and defend him anyway, you know?"

Jonghyun rubs the back of his neck, looking a little sheepish. "I guess I got a little carried away with my whole interrogation.”

"So did I pass your test?" Jongin asks, feeling a lot less nervous now that Jonghyun is looking at him with the smile he usually saves for Taemin.

"I don't think there ever was one to begin with," Jonghyun pushes his chair back and rounds the table to sit in the one right next to Jongin instead. "I still owe you an apology. I was wrong to assume." 

 

Jongin waves him off, relieved beyond words. He's been similarly overprotective towards Seulgi when potential suitors came around. Seulgi was as fondly exasperated about his own meddling as Taemin probably is towards Jonghyun. 

“If it has to be anyone, I’m glad it’s you,” Jonghyun goes on, looking genuine when he says it. He sets a hand on Jongin’s shoulder, patting him lightly. “He speaks highly of you. All the time, actually. I trust his judgment, even if I was stubborn about it.”

“Well you guys look cosy.” Taemin comes back with their drinks in hand, balancing them carefully without spilling anything. “Should I leave? Do you guys a minute? A room maybe?” 

Jongin kicks at him, narrowly missing his shins and Taemin snickers, lowering the mead and settling back down into his seat. He looks happy. Jongin smiles, feeling the load in his chest finally dissolve. He laughs when Jonghyun reaches up to ruffle his hair the way he usually does with Taemin; it feels warm and familiar even though it’s the first time it’s happening. The comfort that comes from it washes over him, and Jongin takes his drink in hand, swallowing down a mouthful of mead contently.

 

~

 

Between Jongin’s constant stream of patients and Taemin’s time-consuming commissions, it’s difficult to find the time to for flying together regularly, but they try to head out as often as they can manage. 

Sometimes Taemin keeps going all through the night, determined to finish the project he’s working on in one go and Jongin needs to head out on a long trip early in the morning, where he's needed on the other side of town. Still, they manage to find plenty of time to actually see each other around town and get a bite to eat together, winding up at the tavern for drinks later more often than not, even if they don't go flying. It gives Jongin the chance to really get close to him in his own way, outside of the Bond they share when Taemin's in his dragon form. It gives him the right base to build everything else up on, to know that they can make this work because they choose to and not because of a link that forces them together. Jongin is content to wait a while before they can go flying again, harbouring a growing bubble of satisfaction in his chest that they get along easily by their own merit. He likes to think they would’ve still gotten to this point in their friendship had they met under different circumstances. They fit well, no matter how he looks at it. 

Taemin takes it up a notch when they do take off into the sky, more adventurous with his flying when he's sure Jongin won't actually throw up all over him. Never mind the spiraling and consecutive loops around the clouds, it's the sharp drops that really have Jongin's stomach in his throat, yelling hoarsely until Taemin pulls up just before they plunge straight into the sea, flying right over the surface. He earns himself a sharp smack on the hide when he rolls over midair, dunking Jongin's head in the water before turning upright again. It's still the best time he's ever had, something he can't hide from Taemin when he can hear and feel everything going through Jongin’s mind. The thing about the Bond itself is that it never feels invasive, like he's meant to share his entire self with Taemin like this, especially when they're in the air. He can't hide anything, but he wouldn't want to anyway. They've reached a level of comfort between them where Jongin doesn't feel burdened by the openness between their souls.

"Absolutely not!"

Taemin zigzags through the air, waggling Jongin on his back. "Come on, it'll be fine! I swear I'll catch you."

"Are you kidding me?" Jongin retaliates. "It's a thousand foot drop from up here!"

He can feel Taemin shrug, like the magnitude of how high up they are is trivial to him. Jongin has a lot less confidence when he's not the winged one between them.

"Don't you trust me?"

Jongin hesitates, frowning. There's really no question to it; he wouldn't be up here, letting Taemin carry him across the sky if he didn't already trust him deeply. He can feel the genuine concern behind Taemin's teasing tone, overshadowed by the certainty that he can pull this off, with Jongin's trust and consent to back him up. At the end of the day, Jongin's never felt safer than he does with Taemin, even with a thousand foot drop to the sea beneath them.

He gives in. Taking his hands off the saddle hold, he reaches down to the buckles strapping him firmly to the seat and loosens one slowly. Taemin snaps to attention, his wings snapping through the air more calculatingly in anticipation.

Sucking in a deep breath, Jongin grabs onto the last buckle and clicks it open, letting the straps fall aside so that there's nothing holding him to the saddle, and Taemin's back.

"Ready?" he asks and feels Taemin's affirmation.

Holding on to the saddle bar, Jongin brings his feet up to stand on the seat instead, struggling to balance himself properly. It takes him a few seconds to manage it, and a few more still to convince himself to let go of the saddle bar entirely. He trusts Taemin.

The second his fingers slip off the bar, he's pushed off Taemin's back with the force of the wind, plummeting downwards with nothing to hold him up in the air anymore. He's gaining speed the longer he falls, his lungs feeling too tight in his chest to let out the yell that's trapped in his throat. Jongin waves his arms around, trying to push himself into a flat position, belly down, but only winds up turning upside down, plunging even faster headfirst.

He can't see Taemin but he resists the urge to twist his neck around and search for him, afraid he might actually break his neck.

"Where are you?" he yells through the Bond, catching a glimpse of the blue expanse below coming up closer to meet him. His blood starts to rush to his head painfully.

"Relax," Taemin answers him. "I'm coming."

A shadow falls across him and Taemin _finally_ appears beside him, diving headfirst just like he is, to look at him the right way up. Just the sight of him close by is enough to turn Jongin's limbs to liquid, relieved beyond belief to have him there even though he's still falling, with nothing to stop him from crashing into the sea. Maybe it's Taemin transferring his own calmness to reach him through the Bond, tamping down the bubble of panic in its chest. More than that though, it's a testament to how deeply he trusts Taemin, comforted and soothed by his presence alone.

Jongin pushes through the force of the air pressing his limbs together tightly, reaching out across the small space between them to touch Taemin's face, feeling the texture of the rough scales under his palm before sliding it off. For a dragon, Taemin's features are incredibly expressive; it's so easy to tell that he's in high spirits, even just by looking.

Taemin looks down straight ahead, narrowing his eyes before suddenly snapping himself around, turning his back to Jongin. Taking the cue, Jongin reaches out for the saddle bar that's just within his reach, latching onto it quickly and tightening his grip around it firmly. The sea is barely feet away from them now but Taemin extends his wings to their full span, catching the wind sharply and stops their pace so abruptly that it knocks the breath out of Jongin when he slams back onto the saddle again, scrambling to hold on. 

Taemin cheers loudly as he takes them up into the air again, soaring easily and Jongin chokes out a laugh, still trying to get his breath back.

"That was fucking awesome. See, I told you we'd nail it," Taemin says excitedly, the success of it giving him an extra kick as he flies. He gets a thought, twisting his long neck around to stare at Jongin gleefully. "A few more rounds of that and we could sign up for the races."

Jongin groans.

 

~

 

The town is elbow deep in preparations and festivities when the midsummer festival rolls around, one of their biggest annual events. It’s the time of the year when they get the most visitors, travelling from the Northern and Eastern lands just to be a part of the event. 

Jongin’s morning is busy going through a sea of check ups for the travelling dragons who had flown a long distance to get there, the usual routine of treatments for exhaustion, sore wings and scale burn from the humidity. The festival starts when the sun sets so there’s still time to settle everyone in before the fireworks start. The number of patients swarming into the backyard of his clinic is overwhelming but it’s good for business. Jongin thinks he might have earned enough today alone to afford an expansion.

The music and celebrations are in full swing when he heads into the main city hall where they’ve set up long tables, laden with food and enough ale to drown out the sea. Jongin’s mouth waters, plucking up a chicken leg from one of the platters on his way to find Taemin where he’s already drinking cheerfully with a ring of people. 

“Thought you said you weren’t gonna start without me,” Jongin breathes right into his ear from behind, startling Taemin into spilling some of his drink on himself. 

“I didn’t,” Taemin turns to face him, pushing his lower lip out innocently. His weak attempt to hide the tankard in his hand behind his back doesn’t go unnoticed. There’s still some foam on the corner of his mouth. Jongin wipes it away with his thumb, reaching over for the tankard he’s trying to hide and downs the rest of the ale himself, smacking his lips when he’s done. Taemin beams at him, cheerfully calling out to one of the servers for another round. His eyes zone in on the the food in Jongin’s hand and he leans over to bite a huge hunk right out of the chicken leg, grinning closed-mouthed as he munches contently. 

“I swear, you are such a slob,” Jongin sighs fondly, reaching over again to wipe the drops of grease dribbling down his chin. Taemin licks his lips with a loud smack, cheering when the server comes over with their drinks. 

The music gets louder throughout the evening and everyone gets up from the tables to join in the dancing in the middle of the hall. Taemin drags Jongin up too, both a little unsteady on their feet by now, and they wobble their way to where the throng of people are dancing too. 

Taemin keeps calling for more rounds, both of them getting more than a little drunk when they settle back down, littering the entire table with empty tankards. They dissolve into fits of laughter, falling over each other in an attempt to stay upright. Taemin’s playing with a lock of Jongin’s hair, smoothing it down before fluffing it up again and dragging his hand across Jongin’s face even though Jongin keeps swatting him away. He retaliates by tugging at Taemin’s earlobe, dragging his head down till it bumps into his shoulder. 

Taemin’s still laughing, clinging to him with an elbow hooked around his neck, leaning all his weight into Jongin’s side. 

“Y’know, I thought you were one of them,” Taemin giggles, swaying on his seat and rocking Jongin along with him. 

Jongin paws at him confused, blinking up at him with droopy eyes. The drowsiness is starting to wash over him but he fights to stay awake. “One of who?”

“You know,” Taemin slurs, shaking his arm to rocks Jongin’s shoulders around. “Those guys. The bad ones.” He thumps a hand against his chest, chuckling, dryly this time. “I thought you wanted my heart scale.” 

Jongin snorts dismissively, wrinkling his nose at the thought. “I would never.”

He tries to pat Taemin’s head but misses, patting his face instead. Taemin sticks his tongue out and licks Jongin’s palm to get his hand off his face, leaning in close instead to mash his face into the side of Jongin’s neck, his lips pressed right behind his ear. 

“‘M really glad you’re not,” he sighs drowsily, his hot breath fanning across Jongin’s skin.

 

When Jongin comes to, it’s to the painful pounding in his skull, feeling the growing headache ache behind his eyes when he sits up. It takes him a moment to register that he’s not in his own bed, though he’s still fully clothed. Taemin is snoring beside him, lying on his stomach with half his face mashed into his pillow. Jongin slumps back down, tugging the covers over himself comfortably and closes his eyes so the spinning will finally stop. Surprisingly, he remembers most of what they did the night before, drinking themselves silly and dancing to the music in the hall before somehow staggering back home. Or rather, Taemin slinging an arm around Jongin’s neck and dragging him home with him.

As if on cue, Taemin grunts and shifts closer, throwing a leg over him comfortably. Jongin opens his eyes again, staring at him thoughtfully. The drunken conversation they’d had still rings in his head, thinking about the subject Taemin brought up, however drunk he was. Jongin wonders if there’s more to it than he’s telling him, wondering if that was the reason why he was so quick to let out a jet of fire when Jongin showed up the first time. He sighs through his nose, taking his time admiring how long Taemin’s eyelashes are, brushing across his cheekbones, his eyes twitching when his hair falls into his face.

“You’re gonna wear the gorgeous off my face if you stare any harder,” Taemin murmurs suddenly, his voice muffled by the pillow.

Jongin scoffs, rolling his eyes. “You’ve got a zit on your nose.”

Taemin reaches under the bed covers to pinch his side and Jongin yelps before groaning immediately when the spinning in his head starts again. He yanks at Taemin’s earlobe to wipe the smug grin off his face, only letting go when Taemin whines at him. 

 

~

 

The Bond between them is strongest and clearest when Taemin is in his dragon form; there’s no filter between them, just a open book to each other with no secrets and nowhere to hide from one another’s thoughts and emotions. The feeling of being connected to someone so deeply is as exhilarating as it is delicate, terrifying sometimes with everything so exposed. Still, it helps builds an insurmountable level of trust between them, drawing them closer. 

Sometimes, the Bond starts to seep through in Taemin’s human form too, both able to feel the faint tugs and leaps in their chest and small, distant indications of what the other is feeling at the time. Sometimes, Jongin feels the scar on his arm ache sensitively, like a reminder that he’ll always be able to feel Taemin’s presence.

Taemin drops down in front of his clinic just as he’s closing up, the wind from his wings slamming the doors shut a little too loudly for the late hour. 

“Hurry up,” Taemin says, sending a little nudge through the Bond as Jongin fumbles with the keys. The street here is too narrow for his size, cramping him into a small space. 

“I thought we were meeting by the hills,” Jongin grumbles, swatting Taemin’s tail away when it slinks over his shoulder, smacking into the side of his face. 

He can feel Taemin shrug. “I got bored waiting.”

“Alright, alright, let’s go.” Jongin can’t help but laugh when Taemin twists his neck around to butt him in the back while he’s fastening the saddle. He clambers on quickly, strapping himself in just as Taemin pushes off the ground and takes them into the air. 

It’s a clear night and Taemin takes them out a little further than usual, soaring right over the surface of the water before taking them up higher, breaking into a pocket of cold air. They’ve come far enough that Jongin is unfamiliar with this area, new to the high ridge Taemin lands on, right over the sea with nothing else in view but the stretch of stars in the sky. 

“Where are we?” Jongin asks, looking around in awe. The view from here is magnificent, unobstructed by anything in his line of vision. 

“I found this place a couple of years ago on a commission job,” Taemin says, shivering as he scrambles to slip into a sweater to keep the cool night breeze out. “It’s completely out of the way, in the middle of nowhere. No one ever comes here.”

He flops down on the grass, close to the edge of the hill they’re on, leaning back on his hands. Jongin joins him, crossing his legs underneath him and turns his face up, letting the breeze and the salty wind from the sea wash over his skin. 

Taemin’s looking at him when Jongin lowers his head back down, a calm look in his eyes. He sidles in closer when another breeze rolls through, squashing against Jongin’s arm for warmth. 

“Where’s a toasty dragon when you need him,” Jongin teases lightly, chuckling at the shove he gets for it. 

It’s dark enough that he’s can’t tell where the sea meets the sky, the magnitude of it all stunning him into awed silence. 

“Have you ever travelled across the seas to the other lands?” he asks. He’s never had the opportunity to head out that far, though the desire was always there, tucked in the back of his mind. 

“I have,” Taemin says, looking thoughtful. “The world out there...it’s different, but the people are all the same.”

Jongin turns to look at him. “What do you mean?”

Taemin pushes himself off his hands, bringing his knees up instead to wind his arms around them loosely. 

“There’s still the same kind of people out there that you’d find here,” he murmurs, still staring out at the sea. “It was different than I thought it would be. I think I had some sort of disillusioned fantasy about there being a different sort of freedom.”

Jongin waits, staying silent when Taemin pauses for a moment before going on. 

“No matter where I go, _I’m_ the novelty there,” he goes on and Jongin finally understands that he’s talking about his dragon form. He _is_ incredibly rare, after all. 

“It’s how I got so distrustful of riders,” Taemin smiles dryly. “I’ve seen the best and the worst sides of them wherever I went, ones who forced dragons to submit, and some who tried to take my scale.”

He rubs a knuckles against his chest absently but Jongin catches the movement, his heart sinking a little when he remembers that Taemin thought he was one of them when they met. 

“How do you feel about riders now?” Jongin tries, keeping his eyes on the sea, watching the waves crash as turbulently as the feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

He feels the tips of Taemin’s fingers slide lightly onto the curve of his knee, settling there, warm on his skin, unobtrusive.

“They’re not so bad when you find the right one,” he says quietly, his lips curling up into a smile and Jongin tears his gaze away from the waves to look at him, locking eyes with him. 

He can feel the echoes of the Bond prickling right under his skin even now, shifting in their proximity like a pull that Jongin can feel tugging inside his chest. Taemin’s face is so close, he can almost see the stars reflected in his eyes, but maybe that’s just Taemin, as bright as he always is when Jongin looks at him. 

Taemin’s tilting his face in closer, keeping his eyes fixed on him with a look that makes his insides twist, open and soft but ardent. Jongin lets himself shift forward, his breath catching in his throat when Taemin’s tongue darts out to wet his lips. 

The sudden sound of his stomach grumbling breaks the spell and Jongin pulls back with an embarrassed groan, patting his empty stomach. Taemin dissolves into laughter at the sound, not pulling too far away and Jongin can feel him shaking with mirth against him. 

“I skipped dinner,” he admits, cringing when his stomach lets out another loud growl. His face feels flushed, fully aware of the moment he just broke and how close they’d gotten just seconds ago. There’s no way he’ll be able to hide exactly why his heart is thundering so hard from the Bond when Taemin turns back. 

Getting to his feet, Taemin holds a hand out to help Jongin up from the ground too. 

“D’you wanna walk back home?” he asks suddenly and Jongin raises his eyebrows, surprised. “The uh- there’s a river bank leading up all the way. It’s pretty.”

The a sudden edge of shyness in his voice as he fidgets, shifting from one foot to the other and Jongin nods, letting him lead the way and falling into step with him. He can still feel the prickles of the Bond, however muted they are, sensing the faint wave of affection through a wall of uncertainty. Neither of them brings it up though, and Jongin is grateful that they’re walking the way back home, still unsure of how to address everything just yet.

 

-

 

It starts pouring while Jongin's on his way down to the river, the black clouds rolling in swiftly with the force of the wind. The tell tale rumble of thunder booms in the distance, amplifying the harder the rain falls. Groaning, he tears down the path, trying his best not to slip and break his back on the rocky path. He can see Seulgi's stables coming up a short way ahead down the path, hoping to take shelter there till the storm passes.

He's soaked to the bone by the time he slides inside, pushing his wet bangs out of his eyes. Looking around, he notices that every stall in the stable is empty and Seulgi herself is nowhere to be seen even when Jongin calls out for her. She must have taken them out to the pastures for their morning graze before the rain started.

Sighing, Jongin peeks back out to look at the sky, the darkness setting in with no signs of the deluge stopping any time soon. He pushes out of the stables again, veering off the path down to the river to head up to the fields instead where Seulgi usually takes the horses. It's the perfect place for them to eat in peace, in the outskirts of town where there are less dragons to frighten them.

He can barely see through the curtain of rain, blinking the drops of water out of his eyes as he runs. The faint sound of whinnying reaches his ears moments later and Jongin lets the sound guide him forward, walking almost blindly as he finally steps onto the familiar pasture grass.

"Seulgi?" he calls out, wondering if he can even be heard over the roar of the rain. The muted sounds of hooves on the grass pierces through the din and he squints through the rain to see the shape of a horse galloping straight for him.

The horse panics at the sight of him, rising on its hind legs and neighs loudly.

"Woah!" Jongin calls out, raising his palms up to try and calm her. He recognizes the white diamond mark between her eyes, one of the fillies he'd helped Seulgi birth last year.

"Easy, girl," he says soothingly, keeping a safe distance from her hooves and trying to move aside where he can reach out and catch hold of the reins. She tries to resist him but Jongin holds on firmly, reaching up to set his palm on her neck, patting her gently to help her fear abate. Storm season is always difficult for the horses.

She calms down eventually, enough that she lets Jongin pet over her nose, ducking down to snuffle all over his face. Jongin strokes through her mane to keep her calm and looks around again, trying to find the rest that he's certain are here.

"Seulgi?" he tries calling out again, straining his ears to listen for any answer.

"Jongin!" he hears finally, the faint sound of Seulgi's voice coming from somewhere behind him. "Give me a hand will you?"

Coaxing the horse forward, Jongin tries to follow Seulgi's voice. He finally sees her, standing in a ring of five giant figures towering over her. She's managed to rein in the rest of the horses by herself, though she's struggling to keep them all calm and in one spot when they're all tugging at the reins in her hands.

"Oh good, you got Mimi," she says in relief, pushing two more sets of reins into his hands to balance them out. She turns back to her own, cooing at the one beside her, the white steed who's still being a little fussy.

"Let's get them back," she tells Jongin, who doesn't need any more persuading to get out of this rain. They trudge back through the mud and soil back to the stables, easing them back into their stalls one by one. They're covered in mud, from their hooves all the way up to their manes, all tangled up and messy. 

"Oh, sure, now the rain stops," Seulgi grumbles, peering out at the clearing sky. She dusts off her hands, wiping the mud off the sides of her pants but she still looks a mess, much like Jongin feels right now too.

"Need help grooming them down?" he asks and the grateful look Seulgi throws him is answer enough.

It’s easier to head down the river path, laden with empty brushes and grooming brushes to rinse, now that the rain has stopped. 

"I didn't recognize your white one," Jongin comments, having noted the pure white mare Seulgi led into one of the stalls.

"Well, maybe if you came around more often like you keep promising, you would've noticed her before," Seulgi grins, clunking one of her wooden buckets against his. She's loved horses for as long as Jongin can remember, back when they were kids and she would stare at the travelers' horses in awe. She's done well for herself, with a full stable of her own.

"I've just been busy," Jongin answers sheepishly, cringing at how overused the line sounds.

"Flying is that fun, huh?" she smiles knowingly having heard all about Taemin from him on his last visit. "Stay away much longer and you might even forget _my_ face too. When am I going to get to meet Taemin anyway?”

Jongin groans at the idea of letting his best friend anywhere near someone who doesn't know any of his embarrassing childhood stories. Seulgi would have a field day with that. Still, he does feel a little sorry that they haven't met yet even after telling her all about him. Even Taemin knows about Seulgi. 

He responds by nudging into her shoulder, delighted when she steps right into the river bank and soaks up the water into her shoes. She yelps, throwing one of the brushes at him to smack into his chest but Jongin just laughs, having missed her company.

They get to work, rinsing out all the brushes and filling the buckets up with water to lug back up to the stables. Jongin takes the first two back up, his arm muscles screaming at the heavy lifting. Seulgi's rinsing the hem of her pants in the river when Jongin comes back down, taking over with the brushes.

He takes them up a short way aside from the river, setting them down on the grass to dry out in the sun that's finally emerged from behind the clouds, shining down brightly.

"Jongin?"

Jongin looks up, surprised to see Taemin standing there, his hands casually tucked into his pockets.

Beaming, Jongin dries his hands off on his shirt, stepping closer and grasps his elbow warmly in greeting.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, chuckling when Taemin tugs at his soaked shirt curiously.

"I was up by Minho's place," he says, settling his hand on Jongin's wet hip anyway. "You look like you fell in the river."

"Close enough," Jongin sighs, his skin starting to chafe under the wet fabric. "We get caught in-"

"Hey you forgot the rest of the- oh."

Seulgi comes up behind him holding another brush in her hands, cutting herself off mid-sentence when she spots Taemin standing there.

"Hi!" she says brightly, smiling up at him. "You must be Taemin, right?"

"In the flesh," he says in reply, donning a wide grin. He steps forward to help her with the bucket she’s lugging up in her other hand and Jongin snorts at how charmed she looks. 

"We're probably gonna grab a bite to eat once we're done,” he says, hooking his index in the fold of Taemin’s pocket. “Wanna join us?”

Taemin slips his hands into his pockets too, twisting his hand to catch the tip of Jongin’s finger in the middle of his palm. 

“I’m actually on a tight deadline with a new commission,” he sighs, offering Seulgi an apologetic nod too. “Maybe next time?”

Crestfallen, Jongin nods, watching as Taemin waves goodbye at Seulgi politely and turns on his heel, heading back up the path back to town. He stares after him until disappears from and even then he can't tear his eyes away.

"You are so smitten."

Seulgi's voice breaks him out of his daze and he turns back to look at her, ready to rebuff her but it dies in his throat. He can't even deny it when Seulgi has always been able to see right through him.

"So, when are you going to tell him?" she asks, sitting down on the grass and patting the spot beside her in invitation.

"I don't know," Jongin sighs, slumping down on heavily. It's going to come out sooner or later the next time they go flying together anyway; the Bond will do all the talking. Maybe he should just beat it to the punch. His stomach churns nervously.

Seulgi bumps his shoulder, smiling up at him. "I’m happy for you.”

Jongin returns the smile, sighing through his nose and wondering when to pick the right moment. They’re going to watch the Northern lights tomorrow, when the sun goes down. Maybe he’ll do it then. 

 

~

 

They've learnt to tamp down the connection through the bond, pushing it to the background so their thoughts don't interfere with their concentration. It's hard to have a conversation with someone when there's a constant stream of someone else's thoughts flooding in. They're not completely cut off from each other either, just settling comfortably with the familiar pull of the other's presence.

Jongin heads off to the market early in the morning, hoping to get a first pick at the fresh produce that the merchants bring in. He's been trying hard to keep his thoughts in check, careful of what he lets Taemin hear just yet. He wants it to happen when he’s there in person, to tell Taemin everything himself, no matter how much he’ll probably fumble through it. His stomach swoops a bit at the thought, his hand shaking as he picks through the apple crate to pick out the good ones. Honestly, he's fucking terrified but there's nothing he can keep from Taemin for very long so he might as well come out and say it. After their night trip to the ledge that Taemin took him to, he's feeling slightly more confident about being reciprocated, praying to whatever deity there is above that he's not reading this whole thing completely wrong. Jongin can't even deny it to himself, knowing how deeply he cares for Taemin, far beyond head over heels by now. It's a wonder that he's managed to keep this from filtering through the bond for this long, though he's certain Taemin must feel something anyway, just like Jongin feels everything Taemin does too, mulling over the affection in his senses.

He can tell that Taemin's flying even though he's pushed the connection into the background, trying to focus on paying the merchant the right amount of coins for the fruit and the fish he's picked out from the stalls. Even though he's not there with him, Jongin can still feel the sway of Taemin's wings like he's flying with him, oddly soothing, like he's floating even with his feet firmly planted on the ground.

"...from the Southern Isles, nasty bunch they are."

Jongin catches the tail end of a conversation between two of the merchants hauling their carts up to the stalls, setting up their stock for the day. He lingers by the cabbage stall, curiously.

"I heard that they were coming through here, just didn't think it would be so soon," the other merchant says, looking troubled. "My son is out practicing for the races."

"You should watch out for him," the other merchant cautions him, hauling a leg of meat out from his cart. "The Southern poachers are trouble. Dragon heart business mostly."

Jongin feels his blood go cold, suddenly realizing what they're talking about. He's heard stories about the poachers from the south, vague warnings about their dark reputation. Even regular poachers stay out of their way, either intimidated or threatened with their lives. Swallowing tightly, Jongin reaches out for a batch from the stacked carrots but a sudden sharp pain shoots up his arm and he recoils, hissing at the ache. It's the old wound on his arm, the scarred skin suddenly flaring up out of nowhere. Something's wrong. Grunting, Jongin turns away from the concerned look on the merchants' faces, making a monumental effort to haul his basket up and staggers away from the market. He gets as far as the next alley up the street, heaving as he lets go of the bag and clutches his arm to his chest, groaning at the pain.

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to regulate his breathing but the bond explodes in his mind, flashing to the forefront when Taemin's thoughts burst through violently. He feels the pain before he manages to make out what's happening, aghast when he senses the sharp steel teeth of a trap sinking right into Taemin's shoulder. Jongin senses that he's struggling with it, trying to get him to stop but his own words are drowned out in the panic.

"Taemin, you need to stop moving!" Jongin tries again frantically, abandoning his basket and forcing his feet forward, trying to sense where he is.

Taemin suddenly freezes, his struggling jolting to a standstill. Jongin wonders for a moment if he actually managed to get through to him, right before a wave of Taemin's urgency washes over him.

"Shit," Taemin hisses. "Jongin don't come here. Don't—"

His thoughts get cut off. Jongin staggers to a stop, his eyes widening; Taemin changed back into his human form, snapping the connection off.

Stunned and confused, Jongin runs a shaky hand through his hair, suddenly feeling the panic settling into every fiber of his body. Taemin's human body can't withstand the pain or impact of a dragon trap, he'll bleed out. He'll die.

Jongin tamps down the hysteria already starting to claw its way up his throat. He thinks about the warning Taemin tried to give him before changing back, feeling sick with realization. The merchants' words from earlier come back to him, ringing sharply. Dragon heart poachers from the Southern Isles, passing through their lands. The heart of a dragon is only valuable if it’s taken from them in their dragon form. Taemin must have seen them coming when the trap caught its target, changing back even if the pain is too much for his human body.

Jongin steeples his hands over his nose, squeezing his eyes shut and rattles in a shaky breath. He's powerless.

His arm flares up again and snaps him out of his spiraling, snapping him into motion. He'll need help. He can still feel Taemin faintly, even if the bond is muted now that he's in his human form. The twinging pain in his arm still hasn't stopped. That'll have to be enough for now.

Right now, getting to the clinic is a good start. Jongin retrieves the bag he'd dropped and tears up the path, spurred on faster by the urgency still pounding in his chest.

When he turns into the lane leading up to his clinic, he notices Jeonghan sitting on the front step, waiting for him.

"Hyung!" he greets him brightly, his face falling when he sees the expression on Jongin's face. "Is something wrong?"

Jongin's head is spinning, trying to figure out what to do when he's running out of time. He stares at Jeonghan wordlessly when an idea hits him.

"I need you to do something for me," Jongin says, pulling his keys out to unlock the clinic door in the meantime. Jeonghan nods immediately, seeming to realize that this is serious.

"Go back into town, ask for Jonghyun," Jongin instructs him quickly, pushing into the clinic. "He owns a shop by the square. Tell him Taemin's in trouble, and I need his help."

Jeonghan nods obediently, already turning to run back down the path but Jongin manages to grab onto his shoulder quickly, remembering something.

"Tell Seungcheol to stay on the ground," he says in a rush, not wanting to get him involved and put him in danger but desperately needing to warn him anyway. "Don't fly, just for today, okay?"

Jeonghan looks bewildered, looking like he wants to question it but the urgency in Jongin's voice has him nodding, and Jongin just prays that he trusts him enough to listen. There’s no time to explain everything. He lets Jeonghan go, watching him disappear down the street before retreating back into the clinic, scrambling to gather everything he needs, shoving them all haphazardly into his medkit bag. He hunches over the jar cabinet, where the rest of his herbs are stacked up neatly.

The squeak of the door hinges breaks the silence and Jongin pauses, wondering if Jeonghan came back for something. Peering over the cabinet door, he doesn't see anyone coming in through the entrance. His arm stings again, drawing his focus back down to the knifing pain under his skin.

The floorboards behind him squeak and he turns just in time to see two men pouncing on him before he can even make a sound. Something heavy smashes down on the back of his skull and his shout dies in his throat, the explosion of pain sending white flashes in his vision before he blacks out completely.

 

~

 

He wakes up to a lungful of dust, coughing and wheezing. His senses are still murky, his vision blurry even as he tries to blink it into focus. Jongin groans, feeling a bubble of pain ricochet through his aching skull. He’s lying on the ground, another puff of dust rising when he coughs again. The space he’s in is small, a tiny room with only a tiny window letting in a sliver of sunlight, just enough for Jongin to see properly. His heart sinks further when he sees the bars blocking the window from the outside. 

He summons the energy to sit up, trying to gather his bearings. He’s alone in here, locked inside behind the heavy steel door of the room. His medkit is gone too, Jongin notes anxiously. There’s no way of telling how long he’s been out either. 

Getting to his feet shakily, he staggers towards the window, peering outside to try and figure out where he is. His stomach drops, recognizing the place. There’s a bare stretch of dusty land spreading out as far as he can see; one of the wastelands, far away from town, barren and deserted. He can’t see the men who took him anywhere, but he can’t see where Taemin is either, if he even is here at all. 

The overwhelming sense of powerlessness crashes over him again and he sucks in a shaky breath, slumping back against the wall, at a loss for what to do. The ache in his arm starts up again, throbbing painfully which Jongin desperately takes as a good sign. 

The loud clang of a deadbolt sliding open booms through the room and Jongin snaps back, startled when the door screeches open. He’s immediately flanked by two men, both of whom Jongin recognizes from back in the clinic when he got knocked out.

"Nap time’s over," one of them grunts, roughly yanking Jongin up and wrings his arms behind his back painfully. He gets dragged out of the cell, down along the corridor of wherever the hell they are before being hauled out into the open, onto the stretch of dust in the wasteland outside. There’s a ring of men waiting for them up ahead, standing around one man who looks like the leader of the whole operation, standing with his back to Jongin. 

Jongin struggles but he’s no match for his captors, earning himself a kick to the back of his knees, forcing him down to the ground. 

“Ah. Finally.”

The man turns around and Jongin finally sees Taemin on the ground behind him. His eyes widen, the air getting knocked out of his lungs when he takes him in properly. He sees the blood first, splattered all over his face, pooling down from his shoulder. The crest of his cheekbone is blackened and swelling, much like the bruises under the trails of blood trickling from his crown. His chest tightens in horror at the sight.

“Taemin!”

“Jongin!”

Taemin looks stunned to see him, his face crumpling in dismay. He pitches forward as though to rush to his side but he’s held back by the restraints chained around his wrists. There’s a chain collar around his neck too, ripping up his skin the more he strains against it, only choking himself with the movement. The chains are rooted to the ground, restricting his movement completely. 

“Let him go,” Taemin growls, his expression livid.

"You've wasted a lot of my time today, haven't you?" the leader says to Taemin, resting his hand on his head. Taemin shakes him off with a grunt, lunging at him but the chains hold him back yet again, only making the leader laugh derisively.

Jongin gets a closer look at him, noticing the scar on the back of his hand, imbued on his flesh like a brand; two lines inside a circle. His stomach drops, recognizing who this is from all the stories he's heard about the notorious poacher leader from across the sea. People call him Crossring, the vilest of the bunch. 

"This is nothing personal, you know," Crossring goes on, sauntering over to where Jongin is kneeling on the ground. He squats down in front of him, his mouth curved into a smile but his eyes are sharp and cold. "But I’ve got a business to run."

He grabs Jongin’s chin between his fingers and Taemin hisses again from behind him, struggling in vain against the chains. 

“Your pet isn’t being very cooperative,” he sneers and Jongin shakes him off, spitting on the ground by his shoes. Crossring only laughs, straightening up and kicking dust over the spot where the ball of spit landed. 

“It would be in your best interest to make him change back,” he says, his voice dropping lower with the threat. 

Jongin holds up his head defiantly, steeling himself. Crossring’s expression hardens and the smile slips off his face, making way for the cold anger seeping through. 

Then he lunges forward and kicks Jongin hard in the abdomen, the toe of his boot sinking into Jongin's stomach painfully. Jongin keels over, wheezing and gasping for air, but Crossring doesn't spare him a second, crouching beside him and yanking his head up from the ground by a fistful of his hair.

"How about now?" he growls in his ear quietly and Jongin can see Taemin thrashing against the collar and chains. He keeps his lips pressed together, earning himself a sharp blow to the face, and another, and one after that, socking him so hard in the jaw that it snaps his head back. Jongin can feel the blood trickling down from his nose without even having to touch his aching face. He can hear Taemin yelling but Crossring seems crazed now, cutting out the whole calm facade for the impatient anger.

"You should have listened when I asked the first time, boy!" Crossring says to Taemin, motioning for his other men to come forward. Jongin barely has time to brace himself before they're all having a go at him, sharp fists raining down on him and kicking him hard in every part of his body. Jongin can feel it when one of his ribs cracks, crying out in pain. He catches glimpses of Taemin's face through the gaps between the kicks and the men's legs, desperately furious and frantic. The the tip of someone's boot catches him in the nose and Jongin's vision explodes in white, the pain blooming and spreading all over his aching limbs.

The beating stops and Jongin manages to crack his eyes open, desperately searching for Taemin again. He's on his hands and knees, trying to lean as close to him as he can from where he is, anxiously calling his name, choking on the collar as he struggles against it.

“Now,” Crossring grits out at Taemin, rolling Jongin on his back with a boot pressed against his shoulder. “What do you say we try this again? Turn, or he dies.”

"Taemin," Jongin rasps, running out of breath just over his name. He can taste blood on his tongue, feeling a bubble of liquid rising in his throat when he coughs. He works a pained smile on his face, feeling the tingle of Taemin's feelings echoing through the faint Bond. It's written all over his face anyway, raw and open. He can tell, just by looking at him, that Crossring’s gotten to him, that Taemin’s ready to do just that. 

Jongin coughs again, trying to find his voice through the sharp pain rocketing through his chest again. "Don’t listen to him, don’t do it.” 

Crossring snaps out a long blade from his belt, jerking Jongin up by his hair again, making the broken rib in his chest shift agonizingly. The cool steel of the blade presses into his skin, right by his jugular and rests there.

"Don’t say I didn’t warn you," Crossring growls at Taemin, piercing into Jongin's skin with the tip of his blade.

Taemin's scream is drowned out by a sudden roar overhead, booming so loudly that it makes the ground shake. Jongin stares up at the sky weakly, seeing a flash of black and red before he's kicked aside, the ground swinging up to meet him again. He reaches up shakily, clutching at his bleeding neck where Crossring had nearly gone on to slit his throat. He barely registers the commotion around him of the men scattering and shouting as another roar booms overhead. Jongin manages to roll on his back, regretting it when the pain in his ribs spikes sharply.

The flash of black comes back, in the distinctive form of a dragon. Jongin heaves out an overwhelming sigh of relief, recognizing him. Jonghyun got his message. The flash of red comes up behind him and Jongin spots Chanyeol there too, fending off the arrows being shot at them with one swipe of air from his wings.

Jonghyun tries to swoop down beside Taemin but Crossring's men start fighting back with spears and crossbows this time, forcing him to swing out of the way before they rip through his wings. Jongin grunts, rolling himself onto his side, biting back his pained whimper and breathes heavily through his nose.

Crossring’s men are busy fending off the attacks, defending themselves with something that somehow manages to deflect Chanyeol’s blasts of fire. Jongin uses the moment of distraction to drag himself forward on one arm, keeping the other pressed across his chest in an attempt to keep his body from falling apart completely. Taemin is struggling with the collar, trying to pry it apart but it's clamped on too tightly for his fingers to manage it.

He stops when Jongin finally manages to crawl over to him, barely able to summon the strength to move any more. Taemin leans forward against the pull of the collar, finally able to reach Jongin and tugs him closer till he's lying by Taemin's knees. Jongin sighs contently, feeling Taemin's hands on his aching face, swiping his thumb under Jongin's nose. He summons the strength to reach up and slide his palm around the side of Taemin's face gently. He can feel Taemin trembling, probably from the pain and the shivers from the blood loss, but he's still smiling, the expression somehow reaching his eyes. He smiles wider at Jongin's touch, breathing out through his nose like it's somehow soothing the agony. It's amazing that he's even held out this long, withstanding the pain without turning into a dragon to endure it more easily. Jongin feels weak with relief that he held on, aware that it's the only thing keeping the poachers from ripping his heart out. 

"Wow, you actually look worse than I do," Taemin chuckles softly, dipping down as far as he can to press his forehead to Jongin's still cupping his face gently in his palms.

Jongin coughs out a laugh even if it wracks through his chest painfully. "Thanks."

The affection making its way through the Bond almost numbs out some of the pain, just a fraction. Jongin sighs into it, covering Taemin's hand on his face with his own, wanting more.

"A collar is not a good look on you," he jokes lightly and Taemin laughs, pinching his nose before pulling his fingers away apologetically when Jongin whines.

"And here I thought you were into that kind of thing," he grins fondly, helping Jongin sit up. Taemin is pale, his breathing laboured after all his struggling and straining his own wounds where his shoulder is still bleeding. Jongin pushes himself up slowly, peering under the flap of Taemin’s shirt. They’ve done something to him, stopping the bleeding just enough to keep him from dying but not enough to patch him up properly. 

Taemin glances up, watching Jonghyun and Chanyeol being forced back a distance to avoid the volley of spears coming their way. Jongin can read the tension burning under his skin, wanting to help them even in his state. There’s no talking him out of it and Jongin doesn’t try. He looks around instead, feeling the ground and his fingers curl around a rock, big enough that it fits into his palm. It'll have to do. 

"Turn around," he murmurs and Taemin obliges, bowing his head forward obediently. The collar is bound by a tough lock but Jongin just needs to get the bolt by the hinges loose enough to work it apart. Taemin winces with every strike of the rock, and Jongin bites his lip sympathetically. 

It takes a couple more hard blows before the bolt finally starts to come loose and Taemin reaches back to wrench it off, letting it clunk to the ground. He rubs at his neck, groaning at the wrecked, bruised skin around his throat.

When he turns to look at Jongin, he’s got that look in his eyes like there’s something he needs to say but the words don't come, dropping his eyes instead. The sound of Jonghyun’s roar makes him snap his head up again, narrowing his eyes at Crossring's men.

"We need to help," he says, getting to his feet and Jongin straightens up, keeping his arm wrapped around his middle in an attempt to keep his ribs from falling apart.

"Wait, just—" Jongin stops him for a moment when he strips his shirt off quickly, giving him full view of the wreck underneath his clothing. He’s a bloody mess, looking even more like he shouldn't even be standing right now. He presses a hand to Taemin's hip, away from the wounds and leaves it there. Taemin seems to know what he's saying, responding by throwing his shirt over Jongin's face.

"I'll be fine," he says and Jongin can hear the grin in his voice without even needing to see it. There's a soft pressure against his forehead, through the shirt but when Jongin yanks it off his face, Taemin’s working his pants off. Jongin yanks him up again, desperate to say all that he needs to but he falters too. 

“We’ll talk later, okay?” he manages pointedly and Taemin laughs, tossing the clothes aside and stepping back to put enough space between them. 

“I love you,” he blurts out right before he turns into his dragon form, towering over Jongin. The effect is immediate, like the doors have slammed open and everything comes flooding through the open connection between them again, hitting so hard all in one go it feels like something is slamming into Jongin’s chest. He can feel everything, Taemin’s pain, the rising urgency and more than anything how deeply Taemin’s feelings for him run. 

“Couldn’t wait till later,” Taemin says, shyly turning his head away when Jongin gapes up at him. A bubble of fondness blooms in Jongin’s chest, feeling his heart swell to twice its size, returning the feelings. There’s no hiding how hard he’s fallen for Taemin now. 

There's no saddle this time but Jongin manages to clamber up onto Taemin’s back anyway, settling in between the high ridges of Taemin's spine and holding on tightly to the back of his neck. His ribs are killing him and he struggles to catch his breath.

"I'll kill you if you drop me," he grunts in his mind, tightening his heels around Taemin's sides to brace himself on better.

"No, you won't," Taemin answers cheerfully, sending another wave of affection his way and Jongin lets it wrap around him, sending back a wave of his own. Through the wave, he can still feel the sting of Taemin’s pain, aware that Taemin can probably feel his too. 

“Hold on tight.”

Taemin sinks down low and pushes off the ground hard, catching the wind under his wings quickly. Jongin manages to peer over the side without falling, hearing the angry cries from below. Crossring is gearing up another crossbow, aiming it right at them as they fly. Taemin swerves to the side just in time to avoid the hit, steadying quickly after feeling how hard Jongin’s stomach turns on itself, holding on to him extra tightly. 

The men are holding some sort of shield up over their heads, protecting themselves from the blast of fire Jonghyun keeps breathing at them, managing to elude Chanyeol’s fireballs too, no matter which angle he’s belting them out from. They group together to form an impenetrable wall all around, keeping the flames out and Crossring in the middle of the shields. The fire isn’t enough to split the men’s ranks and there’s no opening to fly in close enough without getting speared down. 

“What _is_ that?” Jongin squints, trying to figure out how the shields are able to repel dragon fire. 

“Dragon hide,” Taemin growls, his anger rolling in waves as he belts out a line of flames himself. Jongin’s heart sinks, realizing that the only thing unaffected by dragon fire is a dragon itself. He shouldn’t have expected anything less from poachers.

Crossring’s men launch another volley of spears, forcing all three of them to scatter and retreat out of the way again. The strain of staying in the air too long is starting to weigh on Taemin, depleting his energy fast. He’s still badly injured, though he can hold out longer in his dragon form.

“I’ve got an idea,” Jongin says suddenly, spotting one of the missed spears down below on the ground, a short way away from Crossring’s wall of shields. He lets his thoughts stream, trying to get everything through to Taemin as quickly as he can. 

“Fuck, Jongin, that’s way too dangerous,” Taemin mutters, clearly not liking the idea as a spike of unease shoots through the connection.

“Don’t you trust me?” Jongin smiles, echoing Taemin’s exact words to him back when they first started flying together. Taemin huffs at him irately but Jongin senses his answer anyway. 

“It’ll work,” Jongin says determinedly, watching as Taemin signals Jonghyun and Chanyeol over to fill them in. 

Jonghyun immediately swoops down and blasts a trail of fire at the men again, forcing their shields up close to keep the fire out. Chanyeol takes over when Jonghyun stops to breathe, firing another line of fire straight into the wall of shields. 

Taemin moves quickly, dropping down to land on the ground again, hidden behind the curtain of flames Jonghyun and Chanyeol are holding up. Jongin slides off his back, groaning when he lands on the ground hard, jarring the pain in his ribs again. He grabs the spear up from the ground, tightening his grip around the steel rod and watches Taemin take off again to help with the curtain of fire. 

Spear in hand, Jongin walks closer to the flames, staying behind the blast that Taemin shoots to burn into the ground to keep him hidden. 

“Tell me when,” he murmurs, lowering himself onto the balls of his feet. The heat is so fierce he can barely keep his eyes open through it, feeling his skin starting to singe. 

“Now!”

The flames dissipate and Jongin dives forward, bowling into the small space between the shields and the ground while the men’s attention is focused on what’s above their heads. He breaks through the wall, hurtling right into their legs and brandishes the spear around erratically. The sudden attack from below catches them by surprise, enough that it breaks their formation, forcing the men to lower their shields and scatter before Jongin slices into their legs with the spear. 

That’s all the opening they need and Jonghyun dives down first, bringing his spiked tail around and slamming it into the first line of men trying to bring the shield wall back up, knocking them aside. Jongin is still sorely outnumbered, now in the middle of Crossring’s circle of men and someone manages to land a boot into his stomach again before Taemin smashes onto the ground, curling around Jongin protectively and releasing a jet of fire to force them back. 

“I’m okay!” Jongin wheezes and Taemin grunts unhappily but he turns his focus back to Crossring’s men closing in on them again. All of them but Crossring himself. 

Taemin growls, whipping around in search but he’s nowhere to be seen in the ring of men surrounding them. They raise their crossbows again over their shields, gearing up for another attack and but the circle is broken again when Chanyeol smashes the end of his tail through the line of men, hurling them aside to create an opening. 

He growls, jerking his head to the side and Jongin follows his direction, just barely spotting Crossring’s retreating figure in the distance, trying to escape.

Chanyeol yanks a man back when he takes his aim at Jongin, pointedly snorting that he’s got this and Jongin nods quickly, clambering onto Taemin’s back again before he pushes off into the air again. 

From up here, Jongin can see where Crossring is headed, making straight for the underground tunnels by the mouth of the forest where the bulk of a dragon can’t follow after him. Taemin puts in another burst of speed, nosediving as fast as he can but Crossring has already made it through, shooting off another arrow at them that just misses them by an inch before he disappears. 

“ _Shit_ ,” Taemin curses furiously, ready to change back into a human but Jongin stops him quickly, eyeing the boulders sitting by the mouth of the forest. 

“Seal the entrance,” he says, urging Taemin to listen. 

“What? Why?” Taemin asks, even as he does just that, rolling the large slab of rock over the entrance and releasing a jet of fire to weld it in so Crossring can’t double back. 

“I know where the tunnel leads, we need to get there first,” Jongin says and Taemin takes off immediately, flying low and following Jongin’s direction to get there faster. The tunnel leads up to a spot in the middle of the forest, tapering off by the small river that flows beside it. Jongin slides off his back when Taemin lands, but he’s rooted to the spot, both of them standing by the mouth of the tunnel.

“I can hear him,” Taemin murmurs, listening for his heartbeat and the sound of his footsteps while Jongin eyes the entrance warily. Taemin thoughts are racing, images of fire and flames building up to release at Crossring’s appearance, burning him up to a crisp, but they fade just as quickly as they come.

“He’s not going to stop doing this,” he says quietly, like he’s trying to justify his thoughts to Jongin even though he’s never had to. “If we just let him walk, he’ll—”

“I know,” Jongin cuts in, pushing a wave of reassurance through to show Taemin that they’re on the same page. The law isn’t strict enough and punishment means nothing to poachers with webs of connections that can get them out of anything for the right price. Dragons will keep being hunted down and killed as long as there are poachers around who see nothing but bricks of gold in them.

Taemin lowers his head down to Jongin’s level, staring down at him until his own uncertainty abates. He noses at Jongin’s shoulder lightly, giving a decisive nod when Jongin pats his chin. Wading into the river, Taemin heaves one of the bigger slabs of rock out from where it’s buried firmly in the soil, wrenching it free and dragging it back up to the mouth of the tunnel. It’s just big enough that it will block the entrance completely, far too heavy to be pushed aside with human strength. 

“Ready?” Taemin asks and Jongin thinks about the day they’ve just had, and the days to come that others might go through if they don’t do this. He nods, setting a hand on the rock and rolls it forward with him, even though Taemin does all the pushing. The rock drops over the opening, sealing off every inch and Jongin steps back before Taemin releases a burst of fire on it for good measure. 

He pulls away and they both stand around it wordlessly, unable to tear their eyes away from the rock and the entrance that is no longer there. Jongin exhales shakily, licking over his dry lips. 

Taemin is still listening intently, focusing on any sounds coming from behind the rock. Jongin can hear the thoughts filtering through the bond, listening to the sound of a heartbeat coming close, speeding up briefly before suddenly retreating and dimming out.

“He’s doubling back,” Taemin murmurs and Jongin slides a hand up his hide, smoothing over the part of his neck that he can reach. It’s over. There’s no going back from this but Jongin can’t find it in him to regret it or feel sorrow over it. 

The finality of it doesn’t even register until the pain and weariness catches up to both of them in a sudden sharp wave. Jongin’s knees buckle weakly and he collapses on the grass in exhaustion, watching as Taemin changes back into his human form and slumps down beside him. He winces as he clutches at his shoulder, aching from the strain of flying and heaving rocks around. The wound is bleeding again and Jongin crawls over to him, pulling his own shirt off over his head to put pressure on it, trying to get the bleeding to stop. 

Taemin manages a laugh, looking up at Jongin fondly like this is incredibly amusing to him. There’s relief etched in every line of his face that they’ve both somehow managed to get out of this alive. It feels like the bond has somehow amplified tenfold between them even with both in their human form; Jongin can feel Taemin’s affection seeping through, and Taemin’s growing smile is all he needs. 

He grabs the shirt Jongin’s holding down against his shoulder, taking charge of it and yanks at Jongin’s hand, drawing him down to lie beside him. The position takes the pressure off Jongin’s own aching ribs and he wheezes in exhaustion at finally being off his feet, taking a moment to really breathe. He slides his fingers into Taemin’s palm properly, slipping them between Taemin’s fingers to link their hands together and holds on tightly. It feels like second nature, without a hint of awkwardness, like this was always meant to be something they would be able to do together without any doubt or hesitation. Taemin smiles shyly, staring up at the sky for a moment before turning his head to look at Jongin properly. In the back of his mind, Jongin registers that they’re still out in the middle of nowhere, him with a broken rib and Taemin still bleeding through his wounds but somehow, all that seems to fade away into the background. 

Jongin wants to reach over and push back the hair falling into Taemin’s eyes, but his ribs are aching too much to roll over and do it. Taemin laughs, reading his expression and musters up the energy to shimmy in closer till their arms are pressed up together. Grinning, Jongin returns the gesture with an effort of his own, shifting slowly onto one shoulder and pushing his face up closer to Taemin’s. The position makes everything hurt again but Taemin doesn’t make him wait long, leaning forward and finally kisses him, sighing into it like it’s his first breath of fresh air in a long time. The touch of his lips against Jongin’s own feels like fire, spreading warmth through his entire body and Jongin drowns in it, pushing in for more and kissing Taemin harder. He dips his tongue in, flicking it across the roof of Taemin’s mouth and Taemin surges forward again, moving their lips together fervently until neither of them can even think to breathe. 

Taemin bumps their foreheads together with a long sigh when they pull apart. His head drops back onto the grass underneath them, his energy depleting quickly and Jongin can see how terribly pale he is, despite how heatedly he’d kissed him. They’re both a mess and, frankly, Jongin has never been more in love. 

The air ripples overhead and the sound of sweeping wings finally comes, blowing through the leaves and branches as Jonghyun and Chanyeol hover up above, looking for them. Jongin can see them starting to dip down towards them, blocking the sun out with their massive wings. He closes his eyes but doesn’t let go of Taemin’s hand. 

 

~

 

They get them both to a healer the second they reach town again, before Taemin completely bleeds out and Jongin punctures a lung. 

The healers need to put Taemin under for a while till they can make sure there are no traces of the trap’s steel in his shoulder, closing up his open wounds carefully and binding them. Jongin just watches silently from the cot they’ve laid him on, already having been tended to by another healer. The bandages are uncomfortable and scratchy around his ribs but he ignores it. They’ve given him something for the pain so his body feels rather numb now though he’s still overwhelmingly exhausted. Chanyeol has already gone back home after making sure they’re both okay, needing to get back to Kyungsoo after having risked his neck without him like this. 

Jonghyun is still there in the clinic with them though, watching the healers with a careful eye as they tend to Taemin, eyeing their every move like he’s afraid they might do something to make it worse. Jongin reaches out for him where he’s standing beside his cot, startling him out of his focused staring. 

“What’s wrong? Does it hurt?” Jonghyun redirects his bubble of concern onto him, giving him a once over as though his internal pain would somehow show up on his body. He’s got a warm hand set on Jongin’s shoulder and just the weight of it is soothing, easing the spiking anxiety in his chest. It’s hitting him all in one go now how close Taemin had been cutting it out there; seeing him so eerily still like this has him a lot more unsettled than he’d realized. 

“I’m fine,” Jongin smiles, happy when Jonghyun sits down on the edge of the cot beside him. “Hyung. Thank you.” 

For coming for them, for helping, for saving them. He doesn’t have to spell it out for Jonghyun to know what he’s saying, returning Jongin’s smile. 

“Anytime,” Jonghyun tells him sincerely, patting his knee. 

Jongin turns his head back to look at Taemin across the room, his eyes closed, looking peaceful, and smiles. 

 

It takes a while for them to get back on their feet properly, being relegated to strict bedrest for a couple of weeks. Jongin has to close the clinic, forced to stay at home, though he can’t say the break is unwelcome. Taemin, on the other hand, nearly reopens all his wounds again when he shows up all by himself at Jongin’s house, deciding he prefers lying in Jongin’s bed than his own. Jongin can’t even work himself up into berating him for it, craving Taemin’s company terribly. Jonghyun must have known this would happen because he brought more food than usual when he came to check on him earlier. Jongin smiles fondly, reminding himself to thank him later. It’s a tight squeeze on Jongin’s small bed but they make it work, pressing up against each other as comfortably as they can. 

Jongin shifts around, grunting a little at the movement. His ribs still ache, and he’s still heavily bruised from all the beatings and kicks he took. Even his nose is still painfully tender to touch. Still, he moves around onto his side, fitting himself against Taemin’s body to push his face into the crook of his neck, leaning on his good shoulder, away from his healing wound. 

Sighing, he slides a hand up along Taemin’s chest softly, feeling for his heartbeat, infinitely glad that it’s still there; that they’re both still here. 

“Really wanted to see the Northern lights with you that day,” he mumbles. “Had everything all planned out perfectly.”

Taemin snorts, latching onto one of Jongin’s wandering fingers and pinching him.

“We’ll see the lights another time,” he says. He stops for a moment, in thoughtful silence. “You know, maybe we should join the races.”

Jongin scoffs, pointedly jabbing Taemin’s shoulder lightly and kissing him apologetically when he groans. 

“Point taken,” he croaks out, throwing his arm across and flopping all over Jongin, even though it’s way too hot to be so draped all over each other. 

“Next week then.”

Jongin pinches him, only mildly apologetic when Taemin yelps and whines at the sharp movement as he flinches. He leans up and kisses him again to appease him anyway.

 

They’re finally back on their feet a couple of weeks later, just in time for Jonghyun’s birthday. He’s hosting a party at his place and they’re both invited.

Jonghyun immediately abandons his post as the host to fuss over them both the second they walk in through the door, insisting that they’re comfortable and catering to them even though it’s his day. They indulge him, letting him usher them over to the couch until he’s eventually swept off by the rest of his guests, busying him with food and cake and presents. 

Grinning, Taemin grabs Jongin’s hand and yanks him back off the couch, sneaking away from the main room to slip into Jonghyun’s pantry where’s it’s quieter. It’s dark in here without any windows but Jongin doesn’t need to see him to find his lips, melting into the kiss that Taemin presses to his mouth. He shuffles backwards when Taemin nudges with his hips, pushed up against the shelves. Jongin pushes aside the wheel of cheese he can feel digging into his back, bracing himself against the wood to pull Taemin closer and dip down to kiss along his throat. Taemin sighs quietly, dragging his fingers along Jongin’s scalp as he presses his lips closer to Taemin’s shoulder where it’s still a little tender. 

He groans when Taemin tugs as his hair, yanking him back up to lick into his mouth again with a quiet noise of approval. It gets a lot hotter when Taemin suddenly slips his thigh between Jongin’s, rutting up closer and Jongin can’t hold back the low moan that slips through his lips. 

“Fuck, wait,” he pants, breaking off and holding Taemin’s face steady with a hand cupped around his jaw. “This—maybe not in Jonghyun’s house, in the middle of his party?”

He barely even sounds convinced himself that he wants to hit pause on what they’re doing, his skin burning hot and craving more and more of Taemin. 

Taemin listens though, chuckling and reaching up to break off a small piece of bread from the loaf sitting on the shelf behind Jongin’s head. He pushes it into Jongin’s mouth slowly, his fingers lingering tantalizingly on Jongin’s lips.

“Later then,” he breathes into his ear before pulling away and the loss of his steady weight and warmth makes Jongin dizzy, barely able to think straight right now. 

He stumbles out of the pantry after Taemin, emerging back into the main room just as everyone is singing happy birthday. Jonghyun catches his eye, giving him a knowing look with a grin on his face and Jongin flushes all the way down to his chest, dipping his head in embarrassment. 

Taemin presses into his side then, brushing his lips against the back of his ear and slips his fingers into Jongin’s palm, squeezing. There’s that usual wide grin stretching across his face when he looks at him, and Jongin feels his chest shift, lurching the way it usually does when Taemin is in his dragon form; a reminder that he’ll always be there.


End file.
